


Boys of Summer

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [66]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:12:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>White sand, seafood, and six days to keep everything</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Avowed Venomous Fish is a Metaphor

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the [downloadable playlist](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/86645.html) for this story. Enjoy!

Kurt keeps calling the little blue fish a metaphor, but Finn isn’t sure what it’s supposed to be a metaphor for – or if metaphor is the one that uses ‘like’ or the one that doesn’t. Finn isn’t happy about any of the names Puck has come up with for the fish, not that it really matters that much, since it’s not a _pet_ fish or anything and they aren’t taking it home. Kurt just calls it the Avowed Venomous Fish, which isn’t an easy-to-use kind of name. 

“Kurt! It’s touching me again!” Finn shouts, when the Avowed Venomous Fish brushes up against his leg for the third day in a row. The little guy must have some kind of fish nest or whatever fish live in around their part of the beach. 

“Finn darling,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

“It likes you. It wants you.” Puck grins. “Do I need to come scare him off again?”

“Nah, I’m ok, it’s just a little— oh _shit_ , it’s trying to swim up the leg of my shorts!”

Kurt giggles and swims over, grabbing Finn’s arm and floating. “He’s cute, Finn. Have you tried talking to him?”

“Yeah, maybe he’s a bilingual fish and can speak whale.”

“Yeah, I need him to not be going up my shorts before I can feel comfortable with talking to him!” Finn kicks his leg a few times and splashes on the surface, and the little fish darts away, though it stays close enough that Finn can still see it lurking behind Puck. 

“Does that mean you won’t talk to K if he puts his hand up your shorts?” Puck asks.

“We could do an experiment,” Kurt says to Puck.

“Kurt’s not the same as some strange venomous fish,” Finn insists. “We’ve only known that fish for three days. We don’t know anything about it. It might make bad life choices or something.”

“It picked you out of all the possible blue–shorted people, though,” Kurt says reasonably. “So there’s at least one good life choice.”

“It also hasn’t been eaten by a dolphin or any larger fish.”

“That could be because of its avowed venomous status though, baby.”

“Oh, yeah. True.”

“Well, if I could take it home with me, I’d think about it, but I just don’t know how I feel about a summer fling with an Avowed Venomous Fish, you guys,” Finn says. 

“It might have a family,” Kurt says. “You’d have to bring it back to visit them.”

“There’s a good reason to take a vacation. ‘I have to take my fish to visit his family.’ It could work.” Puck shrugs. “At least with some people.”

“Yeah, maybe I can blame it on the fish,” Finn says. “We could meet up every year and take our fish home to see the other fish.” Sounds like a silly plan, but the more he thinks about it, the more it might actually work. At least, then, they’d _have_ to come back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our continued thanks to david_of_oz for his editorial genius. Additional thanks to separatrix and crazykattlady for their beta passes over this work. 
> 
> Here is the [downloadable playlist](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/86645.html) for this story, for listening while reading or otherwise. It's our favorite playlist, so we hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, we planted a lot of seeds and set up a lot of future dynamics in this story... and that's all we're going to say about that (but feel free to ask questions; you know we love questions).

“Have fun on your vacation!” John announces as Puck leaves. 

“That I can do,” Puck laughs, heading out to the Nav and pulling the list Kurt gave him out of the console. As the first one off work, it’s his job to go to Kmart and Ray’s for aloe, sunscreen, and snacks. And to grab some beer from the garage so they can sneak it down to Florida, too. 

It doesn’t take long enough, though, so once he takes everything by the house and hides some beer in their bags, he drives over to the shop and sits on a pile of old tires, watching Kurt and Finn both. 

“If you’re planning on sitting there until they’re done, I can find something useful for you to do, kid,” Burt says. “Get Kurt to give you a rag and you can clean that windshield on the car they’re finishing up. Finn left handprints all over the glass again.”

Puck rolls his eyes, but hops off the tires and walks over to Kurt. “You’re supposed to give me a rag so I can clean the windshield. Your dad doesn’t realize my real talents lie in car vacuuming. Probably because I keep not vacuuming at home.”

Kurt laughs and throws a rag at him. “Putting you to work. You should protest unpaid work.”

Finn rolls out from underneath the car. “Yeah, I think I got some handprints on the window again. Sorry, dude!”

“You should get a shop cat,” Puck offers, half-heartedly wiping at the windshield. “Then there’d be pawprints on every window, but it’d be like an advertising thing.”

“Pawprints? Seriously, dude?” Finn shakes his head. “I’m so ready to leave already.”

“What? It’d be cute!” Puck defends. “But yeah. I got all the stuff on the list already.”

“All we have to do is change, pack our toothbrushes, and load the truck,” Kurt says. “And the truck’s had an oil change and a tune-up.”

“I got to check the radiator!” Finn reports. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Kurt went behind me and checked it again,” he adds, turning his head to wink at Puck where Kurt can’t see him, “but I at least got to check it first.”

“Are you alleging that Kurt checked your ass?” Puck says, barely holding back a snicker. 

“Only if that’s where we keep the truck’s radiator now,” Finn answers, shrugging. “I mean, he might have checked that _too_ , though.”

“I would… definitely do such a thing,” Kurt says with a smirk. “I think the windshield’s at least smudged now, baby. If someone gets murdered in this car, they won’t find Finn’s fingerprints on it.”

“If I don’t succeed in music, I can clean up after criminals?” Puck says, tossing the rag at Kurt. 

“Like in _Sunshine Cleaning_ ,” Finn says. “It can be our back-up career plan.”

“It’s always good to have skills.” Kurt eyes the clock. “If I changed all the clocks, Dad would probably notice. And we’d get there too early to check in, I suppose.” He brightens. “I know, once I’m done, we’ll go get a snack at Joey’s and bring it back.”

“Or get a snack at Joey’s and eat it all,” Finn suggests.

“Well, if you don’t want any, dude,” Puck says, laughing. “But you’re the one that gets off at six.”

“I just mean, don’t let Burt see it,” Finn says. “Bring some back for _me_ , obviously. Just not enough that Burt can swipe any. ‘Cause of, you know, his heart and whatever.”

“Hey!” Puck tries to look injured. “Are we, or are we not, gay ninjas?”

“You totally are,” Finn says. “It’s true. And you’re awesome.”

“Some of us are just born lucky.” Puck shrugs. 

“And some of us were born with large egos,” Kurt says, pretending to look around. “Oh, no, wait. That’s all of us. Not some.” 

“Hey, I don’t have a big ego!” Finn protests. “Or, I don’t think so. Maybe I do.”

“Mmm, maybe not,” Kurt concedes, smiling slightly. “Oh, look. And here’s the owner of this fine car, back to check on it for the fourth time. Despite being told it would take at least three hours.”

“How long’s it been?” Puck asks. 

“Two and a half,” Kurt says dryly. 

“You know, I could probably tack on another fifteen or twenty minutes just for being annoying,” Finn offers. “I could remove a hose or something.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of loosening the battery connection.” Kurt smirks. “It’s no where near where we’re working, and it could take two to four weeks to actually disconnect completely.”

“And that would be, like, repeat business!” Finn nods his head vigorously.

Puck laughs. “And if it happens sooner, we’ll be in Florida, so you two won’t have to worry about it, either.”

“Awesome,” Finn says.

“I’ll just take care of that, then,” Kurt says, leaning forward and closing the hood without actually disconnecting anything. 

Puck snickers again. “Didn’t even need a jackhammer.”

 

Finn decides the best way to start the trip is by shouting “Freeeeedommmm!” at the top of his lungs out the driver’s side window as he’s merging onto I-75 southbound. Sometimes, the situation just calls for a little _Braveheart_.

“Feel better, darling?” Kurt asks. 

“I do, a little bit!” Finn says. “Goodbye, Lima! Hello, white sand beaches without nudists!”

“Is that disappointment in your voice?” Puck jokes. 

“Nope. Only naked dudes I want to see on this trip is you guys!”

“Oh, we can arrange that,” Kurt says brightly. “But I did buy new things for each of us.”

“Uh. Things, what kind of things are these _things_?” Finn asks, glancing over at Kurt, who looks a little bit too happy with himself. 

“Beach things! A bag, beach ball, you know… beach things.”

“Like flip-flops?”

“Yes. Like flip-flops. Though podiatrists say they’re bad for your feet.”

“Pretty sure getting burnt on the bottom of your feet is worse,” Puck says. 

“What color are the flip-flops?” Finn asks.

Kurt turns his head, and studies Finn like he thinks Finn’s trying to be particularly tricky. “I got a different color for each of us,” he says finally. 

“Well, what color are _mine_?”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “Blue.”

“Ok, cool,” Finn says, grinning. “Sounds good.”

“Good, since the only other footwear you have is what you’re wearing at the moment.”

“Then I’m good, ‘cause these shoes are comfortable,” Finn says. 

“Burt did look sort of strangely at how little luggage we had,” Puck says, laughing. “I think he expected more.”

“Sunscreen and aloe vera took up more room than some things,” Kurt acknowledges. “Also snacks.”

“I brought four whole shirts, plus one with buttons,” Finn says.

“Which makes it a partial shirt?” Puck asks. 

“Nah, a fancy shirt.”

“So what made the others ‘whole’,” Puck persists, grinning. 

“They don’t open down the front, asshole,” Finn replies. 

“Oh, I bet we could _make_ them do that, asshole.” Puck laughs. “Right, K?”

“Mmm. That depends on which ones they are. If I’ve already fixed them, it seems like such a potential waste of my previous time.”

“Sorry, Puck, they’re only the ones that Kurt made too tight,” Finn sighs. “Guess you can’t open ‘em down the front.”

“They are _not_ too tight,” Kurt says, frowning. “You can move in them. You could shoot a bow in them.” 

“Oh, shit, was I supposed to pack my bow?”

“Pretty sure there’s not an archery range on the beach.” Puck laughs. “They’d have to put up signs. ‘Do not shoot the sea mammals’.”

“You’re a sea mammal… asshole,” Finn snickers.

“So now you’re going to try to shoot me? I see how this is.” Puck shakes his head. “Not even out of Ohio and there’s already plans to maim one of us.”

“Oh, and here I’d planned on burying both of you in the sand,” Kurt says.

“Aren’t there crabs and stuff in the sand?” Finn asks. 

“Yep. They’ll try to eat your balls, that’s why it’s not a nudist beach.” 

“Yeah, no burying, then,” Finn says. “I need those.”

Driving through Ohio is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. The road is flat and straight and they just talk about shit and make plans for what to do at the beach, and Kurt looks things up on his phone until they start to get hungry. They decide to push on through to Lexington and exit at Man O’ War Boulevard, which Finn thinks is an excellent name for a street.

“Oooh!” Kurt says, looking at his phone. “There’s a sushi bar.”

“K, we’re going to have seafood all week.”

“Oh. True.” Kurt frowns. “What’s a ‘Monkey Joe’s’?”

“Some place I don’t want to eat,” Finn says. “No monkey restaurants.”

“Chick-Fil-A? Steak ‘N Shake? Ha, a Culver’s.”

“I can always eat cheese curds,” Finn says.

“You’re the driver,” Puck says with a shrug. “Though I guess that makes Kurt the navigator, so he could tell you to drive somewhere else.”

“I could, but then we’d be driving around in the middle of _Kentucky_ , so. Culver’s it is.”

“Just point the way, bossofme, and it’ll be ButterBurgers and custard in no time.”

 

By the time Kurt steers the truck past Richmond, Kentucky, Finn and Puck are both asleep. Kurt turns the volume down on the music and cracks the window a little, looking out at the very dark surroundings. Even though 75 is the busiest interstate in the country, there are still parts of it that are empty enough that Kurt turns on the brights. The fifteen miles or so of national forest are incredibly boring, and Kurt’s glad he had the foresight to get a coffee to go before they left Culver’s. 

Around the time they cross into Tennessee, Puck grunts and moves closer to Finn, and Kurt can make out, in the flicker of headlights just across the median, Puck’s hand sliding against Finn’s chest. Kurt sighs and smiles almost sadly. Their bodies, all three of them, shift and accommodate each other naturally now, like they have easily for months, and even though the night air blowing in is warm, Kurt shivers. 

They’ve got one week; that’s how Kurt sees it. When they get back, there’s more double-shifts for Puck, a few extra hours for Kurt, and packing for Finn, and they’ll spend all of three nights at home before they pack up and leave, heading towards Madison. 

There’s nothing that can change that. 

Kurt’s been so careful, in theory, not to expect too much. He and Puck had come to an understanding, with minimal discussion, back in May, that they would grab onto it with both hands and take what was given, but the fact remains, the fact that no one acknowledges at all, that Finn’s going to be in Madison, they’re going to be in New York City, and everything is probably going to come crashing to the ground. 

Kurt can’t imagine that Finn will want to keep up their thing with no name, their ménage à trois, not with nine hundred miles separating them. It’s probably not even fair of Kurt and Puck to even consider asking, and that’s ultimately why they won’t ask. Kurt knows they’ll just wait, wait to see what Finn says or does or otherwise indicates he wants. 

The last thing Finn needs is yet more people pressuring him to do what _they_ think he should do. 

When Kurt passes a blip on the map labeled Lake City, he starts trying to plan where to stop, because Knoxville isn’t too much further, and once he’s decided where to go, he decides to try to wake up his boys. He rolls the window down a bit more and turns up the volume, then starts drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. When that doesn’t work, Kurt starts singing along loudly with Pat Benatar. 

“ _We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder!_ ” 

“Less thunder, Kurt,” Finn mumbles without opening his eyes. He shifts and resettles against Puck. 

Kurt stifles a laugh and turns the volume up a little more, still singing. “ _Now there’s no looking forward, Now there’s no looking back._ ”

“No more looking,” Finn half–grumbles, half–whines, cracking one eyelid. “It’s so loud when you’re looking.”

“Good very–early–morning, darling,” Kurt sing-songs. 

“It’s still night.” Finn sits up a little more and runs his face with the hand that’s not on Puck. “What time is it and where are we?”

“Almost 3, outside of Knoxville, and there’s a Waffle House not too much farther ahead.”

“Ok,” Finn answers, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I’ve gotta pee, anyway.”

“I thought we could at least get coffee while we were there. It might be worth staying in the restaurant to drink it, though. We could get some hashbrowns, too.”

“Yeah, I want some hashbrowns,” Finn says. “Hashbrowns, coffee, bathroom. Another coffee.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Kurt warns. “You can sleep more after we start again, remember?”

“You sure? I don’t mind driving some more if you need to sleep.”

“Puck’s turn, he should be fine.” Kurt shrugs. “The next leg isn’t so barren, at least. I actually had the brights on for over ten minutes at one point.”

“Cool. Ok, only some coffee, then. Not all the coffee,” Finn says.

“Coffee bandits,” Kurt jokes, exiting the interstate, and when the change in speed doesn’t wake Puck up, he looks over at Finn. “I suppose we’ll have to make sure he’s awake.”

“I can probably do that,” Finn says. He slides his hand down the front of Puck’s jeans and puts his mouth near Puck’s ear. “Wake up, sleepy.”

Puck turns his head, eyes still closed, and grunts. He shifts slightly but doesn’t show any actual sign of waking up. Finn starts moving the hand he has in Puck’s pants and kissing Puck along his earlobe, occasionally whispering something to him.

“M’in a truck,” Puck finally mumbles, frowning. “Where are we?”

“Waffle House,” Finn explains. He doesn’t pull his hand out of Puck’s jeans.

“Coffee,” Puck says almost happily, finally opening his eyes. “If I can get out of the truck.”

“Surely he’ll let you go long enough for sustenance,” Kurt says dryly, pulling into a spot in the nearly–empty lot. “Can’t understand why it’s not more crowded.”

“We could stay out here a few more minutes if you need to,” Finn offers. 

“You’re the one with your hand in my pants, asshole,” Puck says, almost cheerfully. 

“Thought it was nicer than shaking you awake, but hey, if you don’t appreciate it, asshole…"

“How would this shaking take place?” Puck asks. 

“If we aren’t careful, we’re going to be shaking the truck,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “Coffee and food first.”

Finn makes a dramatically grumpy face and sighs loudly, but he pulls his hand out of the front of Puck’s jeans. “Sorry, Puck.”

“You probably didn’t want your hashbrowns with extra… whatever it is. Protein?” Puck laughs. 

Kurt opens his door, still shaking his head. “Before I forget, baby, there’s a stretch in this next leg that’s prone to fog, so watch out for that.”

“Fog? Okay.” Puck shrugs. The three of them climb out of the truck and walk into the Waffle House, where they are, apparently, the only customers. 

“What can I do for you boys?” the man at the grill asks. 

Finn rattles off their hashbrown orders, even remembering Kurt’s mushrooms, and asks for coffee and ice water for all three of them. The grill cook nods and starts preparing the hashbrowns, and the three of them squeeze into a booth, Finn across from Kurt and Puck with his legs propped on their seat. 

“I feel like we should check in on foursquare,” Kurt says with a giggle. “Don’t you think Dad and Carole would appreciate that?”

 

Once they’ve had coffee, hashbrowns, and a brief stop in the men’s bathroom that probably fooled absolutely no-one, the three of them climb back into the truck, and since Puck’s driving, Finn’s squished in the middle. One of Finn’s arms is draped across the seatback behind Puck, the other is wrapped around Kurt.

Puck wonders briefly if either of them will stay awake, since they just had coffee, but by the time 75 joins with 40 and then splits again, they’re both asleep, Kurt leaning against Finn, and Puck just grins, taking a sip of his coffee. Just three hours of sleep shouldn’t leave him feeling that he’s relatively rested, but the drive is pretty easy, and Puck plays with the radio for a few minutes until he finds a decent station. 

Puck sits back, the warmth of Finn’s arm against his neck and shoulders, and shakes his head. He’s pretty sure if they were the kind of rich that some of the Dalton kids were, they would have left for the beach a few days after graduation and stayed most of the summer. It’s not the worst thought, either; it’d probably involve a lot of naps during the heat of the day, and even more fucking than they were already doing. 

Still, Puck knows more than most people that things don’t work out that perfectly for the vast majority of people. If they could freeze time for a week, though, this seems like the best week to do it. Just the three of them, in a place where no one knows them, where they can forget about everything happening in the two weeks following. Puck glances at his hands and realizes his knuckles are white, and he shakes his head, deliberately stretching his fingers. Half of the billboards are for some dairy place, and he wishes they were eating ice-cream. 

Even though it’s not even dawn yet. 

After all of their counting down, now Puck’s pretty sure they’d do just about anything to slow time down, instead of the increasingly faster spiral they seem to be on. 

The weird fog area isn’t foggy at all, which is good, and as the sky starts getting lighter, Puck starts watching the billboards—no longer for the dairy, so he guesses they passed it—for a place to eat. Preferably with a larger bathroom, so at least they wouldn’t be so obvious about it.

There’s a sign for Cracker Barrel along with a lot of other places, and Puck figures that even if they don’t open until 7, it’s close enough to stop. They can loiter on the porch with the rocking chairs for twenty minutes or whatever. He waits until they’re parked to try to wake either of them up, and he reaches across Finn to run a finger down Kurt’s nose at the same time he nudges Finn in the side. 

“Wake up, sleepyheads,” he teases. 

“Hmm?”

“Breakfast time,” Puck answers Kurt, nudging Finn again. “C’mon, food.” 

“Action stations,” Finn mumbles. “Hmm? What?” He opens his eyes just barely and squints at Puck. “What’s happening?”

Puck grins. “Breakfast. No stations involved.”

“Maybe action afterwards?” Kurt says. 

“Sun’s coming up already?” Finn asks, blinking slowly. “Must’ve slept harder than I thought I would.”

“Yeah, you two were _out_ within, like, ten minutes,” Puck agrees. “Cracker Barrel’s not open until seven, but there’s rocking chairs and checkers. If we kvetch loud enough, we can pretend we’re at a nursing home.”

“My lumbago’s acting up again,” Kurt says in a crackly old voice. “I need that cute young whippersnapper of an aide to help me bathe again.”

“I’ve losht my teef!” Finn declares. “Shomebody shtole my teef!”

“It was me,” Puck says. “I needed a decoration for my cane.”

“Ew,” Finn responds, snickering. “We’re so gross.”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees. “Also I’m going to beat you at checkers.”

“That’s so obvious, I don’t even know why you’re telling me,” Finn says. “I totally suck at checkers!”

“And when you’re old, it’ll be because you can’t see them, or something,” Puck laughs as they climb out of the truck. When they get to the porch, though, the checker table is empty of checkers. 

“I guess they take them in at night.” Kurt sighs. “Too bad. We’ll just have to rock here.”

“I could get my guitar out and entertain the people in those hotels,” Puck says, smirking. 

“Oh, I’m sure they’d all appreciate that this time of the morning.” Kurt laughs. “No, you should entertain the staff, so they’ll cook faster.”

The manager apparently takes pity on them, because he unlocks the doors about five ’til seven, so they all go piss and get seated with coffee before ordering. Puck gets the big breakfast that has all three kinds of cured pork, while Kurt orders one with a pork chop, and Finn orders the meal with country fried steak.

Puck yawns between sips of coffee. “I’m sleeping more on this next leg. How long is it?”

“Right at three hours, if we stop near that mall you found.”

“Right.” Puck kicks Finn under the table. “Up for it? You get to change highways for us.”

“Ow, asshole!” Finn glares at Puck, but it’s not a very good glare. “And yeah. I can change highways.”

“That wasn’t very hard,” Puck scoffs. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Do I have to separate you two?” Kurt asks, rolling his eyes. “Oh, wait, I will be anyway.”

“He kicked me first,” Finn says. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes, then.” Kurt sighs and shakes his head, but before Puck or Finn either one responds, a different server brings out their food, setting down plates and refilling their coffee. 

“Beautiful,” Puck says. “Really, really beautiful.”

“You’re only saying that because it’s pork, baby.”

“Yep!” Puck laughs. “Absolutely.” He looks at Finn’s plate and shakes his head sadly. “You’re missing out.”

“Fuck you, I’ve got gravy,” Finn says, looking slightly wounded by this attack on his breakfast.

“The rallying cry of the masses, there. Fuck you, I’ve got gravy.” Puck grins and picks up one of his slices of bacon, eating half of it in one bite. 

“It’s a great rallying cry, asshole.”

“Sure. I’m going to run into the waves screaming it.” Puck stops. “Or are the waves where it’s really deep?”

“The waves are the part that hits the sand,” Finn says. “The deep part is the riptide, I think.”

“I don’t think there’s always a riptide, is there?” Kurt tilts his head. “I thought that was why they had the colored flags? The website I found said something about flags on the beach.”

“Green means go, yellow means go, red means go carefully, black means get arrested if you go?” Puck says, laughing. “At least there’s no hurricanes.”

“There’s a flag for jellyfish. I saw it on Tumblr.” Finn nods to himself as he eats another huge bite of his country fried steak, adding, his mouth full of food. “Might be pink.”

“I thought you were still insisting you didn’t have a Tumblr?” Kurt asks, stirring his grits and looking at them doubtfully. 

“I didn’t say I had one. I said I saw it there.”

“I should get one of those and try to find yours,” Puck comments. 

“You could take pictures of… things and Tumbl them?” Kurt says. “But how would that help you find Finn’s?”

“I don’t _have_ one. I’m telling you that!” Finn insists. “What would I Tumbl about, anyway?”

“What does anyone Tumbl about?” Puck asks, attempting to sound philosophical. 

“Tina has a social justice Tumblr, apparently,” Kurt says. “I don’t think that’s the kind of Tumblr Finn has, though.”

“Dude. Dude, seriously. Stop talking about my Tumblr. Which I _don’t_ have!”

Puck laughs, while Kurt just smirks and keeps on eating. They finish quickly, despite how large their plates are, and Kurt picks up the ticket. “I suppose we should ask for more coffee in to-go cups,” he says. “Or, at least for you,” he says, looking at Finn before turning to Puck. “Were you going to sleep?”

“Going to try,” Puck nods. 

“We should have another bathroom break before we hit the road again,” Finn suggests, raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively.

Puck snorts. “All that, uh. Proper hydration. Lots of bathroom breaks.” He takes the ticket from Kurt and stands. “I’ll go pay and meet you two there, then.”

Kurt shakes his head, laughing, and Puck goes up to the front to pay the bill before walking into the bathroom and, from there, into the handicapped stall, at which point Finn slides the lock. 

“You know,” Kurt says, sounding amused as he slides an arm around each of them, “I find the fact that we’re doing this in a Cracker Barrel to be highly ironic.”

 

Puck falls asleep before they’re on I-24, and Kurt sacks out shortly after Finn merges onto I-59, so Finn drives through northern Alabama with the stereo playing quietly. He’ll stop in Birmingham and they can switch out again, not that he’ll probably be getting anymore sleep on this drive. The second coffee from Cracker Barrel pretty much guaranteed that.

The hardest part of the driving isn’t the staying awake, since he’s had all that caffeine, and it’s not that the drive is boring. The real problem is that with Puck and Kurt asleep, Finn doesn’t have anybody to talk to, and without somebody to talk to, he’s free to start thinking about stuff, which is never a good plan.

It’s weird, thinking about this being the last trip they’ll take together, at least for a long time. Not that they’ve taken that many trips together, but they _could_ have; there was physical proximity, something that they won’t have in two more weeks. It’s weird for Finn to think about being almost a thousand miles away from them. 

He’s never lived further than ten miles away from Puck in his entire life, or at least in his entire life since they met each other in first grade. Finn hasn’t ever even been away from home for longer than a week at a time, and Puck’s family didn’t exactly travel much growing up. Finn can’t think of very many times over the last decade—other than that Quinn-related falling out—where he couldn’t just show up at Puck’s or call him to come over. 

And as for Kurt, well… they haven’t even been living together for two years, but thinking about him not being there, right across the hall, is just as weird. Finn’s really not sure what he’s supposed to say about that. They don’t talk about it, just a few offhanded mentions of Wisconsin or New York, never anything specific about how Finn will be _living_ in Wisconsin, while Kurt and Puck are _living_ in New York, and definitely never any talk about the distance or what the three of them are supposed to do about it. 

Finn is pretty sure that three people can’t maintain whatever it is that they have with a thousand mile distance, at least not if two of them are going to be together in the same place, and the third one isn’t. This trip to the beach, it’s the last hurrah for what they have; even if nobody’s saying it out loud, Finn can feel it. It’s a reality they’re all considering. 

When it’s time to switch drivers, Finn bumps his knee against Kurt’s. “We’re almost through Birmingham,” Finn says quietly.

Kurt shifts and then blinks. “Time to switch again?” He looks at Finn, then at Puck, who’s slumped against the door, barely moving. “Maybe go through a drive-through and you and I can just switch.”

“Yeah, he looks kind of unconscious,” Finn agrees. He takes them through a McDonald’s drive through and then parks in the lot. Kurt lifts up off the seat and Finn slides over under him. Kurt sits down in Finn’s lap for a second, where Finn wraps his arms tightly around Kurt before releasing him, then Kurt plops down into the driver’s seat and they both buckle themselves in. 

“I think I’ll stop in about two and a half hours and we’ll let Puck drive us the rest of the way,” Kurt says after he gets the truck headed south again. “We’ll get there around the time of check-in, at least.”

“And then we swim,” Finn says. “Hopefully no jellyfish or sharks or whatever. What else do they have down there that’s dangerous? Like stingrays or something?”

“No idea,” Kurt says. “They aren’t dangerous, but I think they do have a lot of dolphins.”

“That’s cool. I want to see dolphins. Can’t you swim with them or something? Or is that at Disney World?”

“I think that’s in Orlando, yes,” Kurt nods. “But there are dolphin cruises, if I remember right. We could take one of those.”

“Yeah, we should cruise with dolphins. That would rock,” Finn says. “Don’t tell Puck. He can have surprise dolphins. Not to eat, though.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose. “No, not to eat.” He moves his hand to Finn’s thigh and squeezes gently. “Do you want to sleep more, darling?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve had five thousand gallons of coffee, so I might not sleep for the rest of the vacation.”

Kurt giggles. “So if we need a late night snack, we’ll send you.”

 

When they stop at an Arby’s for pop, curly fries, and a switch in drivers, Kurt climbs back in on the passenger side and shakes his head a little. Considering Puck’s usually the one to navigate, they probably should have switched it up so he wasn’t driving and navigating at the same time. 

It’s early afternoon, and the land is getting flatter and flatter, and Kurt thinks that all three of them are vibrating a little. Neither Finn nor Puck have been to the ocean, and while Kurt has a few pictures of himself at age three with his mom and dad to prove he has, he doesn’t remember that single excursion. 

“Just two bridges now, apparently,” Kurt says after he’s read the directions that take them through the city of Pensacola. “We can come back to the mainland relatively easily if we need to for some reason.”

Puck nods and rolls down his window a bit, and Kurt does the same. “So are we smelling the ocean? The salt water?” Puck asks. 

“I smell fish,” Finn says. 

“I want to _eat_ fish,” Puck says rather definitively. 

“Shrimp,” Kurt offers. “Fish _and_ shrimp.”

Puck grins. “Bacon–wrapped shellfish might be perfect.” He shakes his head. “This bridge is so long.”

“Yeah, kinda freaking me out a little bit,” Finn confesses. “I’m having a Great Lakes moment.”

“I think it’s technically a bay, dude.”

“We’re driving over the ocean,” Finn insists. “I’m pretty sure that’s not normal.”

“The sign did say this was ‘Pensacola Bay’,” Kurt says, squeezing Finn’s hand. “And this is definitely better than a ferry, I think.”

“I didn’t bring enough meds for a ferry,” Puck says with a snort. They drive off the first of the two bridges and over land for a short amount of time. 

“At least there’s a grocery store,” Kurt points out, and then they’re back over water again.

“Seriously, _more_ ocean?” Finn asks. “I’m tired of this bridge. This bridge needs to be done.”

“We’re nearly there, darling.” Kurt points with his free hand. “See?”

“I turn right up there, yeah?” Puck asks. 

“Right and then about, oh, 1500 feet, apparently.”

“Trees! I see palm trees! That means land!” Finn says.

Kurt laughs. “Yes. Buildings, too. Which might be even more indicative.”

“I see sand, too,” Puck chimes in. 

“White sand, which I’d like to be in _right now_!”

“Chill,” Puck laughs. “Almost there.” Kurt doesn’t realize how much Puck’s slowed the truck until the person behind them honks once. 

“Oh good, we’re back to being old men on the porch again,” Kurt giggles. 

“You kids get off of my lawn!” Finn declares. 

“There it is,” Puck announces, probably unnecessarily, and as they pull into the parking lot in front of the hotel, climb out, and grab their luggage, it does occur to Kurt that they are possibly not the typical visitors to the beach. 

“Well, let’s check in, so we can unload, so we can—”

“Go to the beach!” Finn interrupts. “And then go back to our room!”

Pucks laughs and Kurt grins, and they head inside. “With beach things,” Kurt insists, fighting the desire to smirk.

“You and your beach things, blue eyes,” Puck says shrewdly. 

“If I tell you I have no idea what you mean by that, will you accept it?”

“No.”

“Swim trunks and flippy-floppies, boat optional,” Finn says.

“Do you mean a boat to ride on or a boat to play with in the sand?” Kurt asks, because he’s suddenly not sure. He pulls out Burt’s credit card with the reservation and hands it to the person at the front desk with a smile. “Reservation’s under Hummel.”

While they look up the reservation, Kurt leans against the counter and raises his eyebrows at Finn, grinning. Finn just shakes his head. “Just a boat. ‘On a Boat’. It’s a song.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t plan on a boat for the sand.” Kurt turns back around to accept their keys, and gets a strange look when he asks for a third. 

“It’s a king-size bed in that room, sir, if…" 

“No, that’s correct,” Kurt agrees pleasantly. “But we do need the third key.”

“Of course.” The poor person just looks confused instead of horrified, at least, and once they get a third key, they head towards the elevators. 

“Did she say sixth floor?” Puck asks. 

“Yeah, she did,” Finn says. “But hey, good view of the ocean? Even if it’s a little high up?”

“And a balcony!” Kurt agrees, stepping into the elevator and holding the door before pressing the ‘6’. “Oh good.” Kurt exhales as the door closes. “No one else is riding with us.”

“That’s good,” Finn says. “I don’t like riding with strangers in elevators ever since I saw that one mov—”

“ _That’s_ why?” Puck cuts him off, grabbing the front of Finn’s shirt and pulling him forward, then kissing him. “Really?”

“You have a good point, baby,” Kurt says, smirking. 

“This, too,” Finn says, when Puck moves his mouth away. “Especially this.”

Kurt hooks one of his fingers through Finn’s belt loop and tugs him off the elevator when it opens, walking backwards down the hall. “On the other hand, no one here knows us, you know.”

“Another good point,” Puck jokes, finding their room and unlocking it. Kurt keeps tugging Finn with him, all the way into the room and close to the bed. 

“Does that mean be quieter because it’s a hotel or louder… because it’s a hotel?” Finn asks.

“Louder,” Kurt and Puck answer together. 

“Awesome!”

 

“I packed my swim trunks,” Finn says, while he’s pawing through his bag. “I know I did. I put them right in here.”

“Yes, well.” Kurt shrugs and walks over to his bag. “I took them out.” He picks up three bags and hands one to Finn, then a second one to Puck. “There you go. Trunks, flip-flops, sunscreen.”

“Beach in a bag,” Puck says. 

Finn looks into the bag Kurt hands him. “Do we each have our own sunscreen?”

“Do you really think that Puck needs as high of an SPF as either of us, Finn?” Kurt answers. 

“Well, I hadn’t ever really thought about it,” Finn confesses. He pulls the swim trunks out of the bag and looks at them. “These are… a little shorter than I’m used to.”

Kurt sniffs. “They’re the longest ones in the room.”

“That’s. Seriously?” Finn looks up at Kurt and grins. “Well, put yours on then!”

“Fine.” Kurt tilts his head as he picks up his bag, then darts into the bathroom and closes the door, locking it a second later. 

“The real question is how much fabric I got, I guess,” Puck laughs. 

“Either least of all or somewhere in between, probably,” Finn says. “If mine are the longest.” Finn pulls on the swim trunks, which are a nice shade of blue and shortish, but not ass–hanging–out short or anything. “They match my flip-flops.”

“That was probably his pl—” Puck stops mid-sentence. “Uh.”

“Well,” Finn says slowly, looking at the swim shorts that only barely qualify as shorts. “You look good in red. Even if it’s only a tiny, tiny little bit of red.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, it’s a small amount of red. But hey, the flip-flops match.” Puck pulls them on and shrugs, looking in the mirror over his shoulder. “They’re still technically shorts, I guess.”

“Put your sunscreen on!” Kurt calls from the bathroom. 

“Here, dude,” Finn says to Puck, tossing him the bottle of sunscreen Kurt left in his bag. “Help me get my back.”

Puck nods and flips the bottle open, but before he even gets any sunscreen on Finn’s back, Kurt calls out again. “And no, sunscreen is not that good of a substitute for lube!”

“I wasn’t gonna suggest it!” Finn calls back, but he grins at Puck and nods his head, mouthing, “Totally was.”

The bathroom door creaks open slightly, and Puck keeps slathering sunscreen on Finn’s back. “Now, Finn,” Kurt says. “You know I do hate to disappoint.” 

“Ho. Lee. Shit,” Finn says, because Kurt is _not_ wearing swim trunks, not even barely–trunks like Puck’s got. He’s wearing an honest-to-god pink Speedo, just like they’d talked about last year after Pride. “That’s… Holy shit.”

Kurt turns around slowly and grins, tilting his head. “Do you like it?”

“I’m canceling the beach,” Finn announces. “You are not allowed to wear that thing out of here.”

“Oh?” Kurt raises one eyebrow, like he’s questioning Finn’s ability to stop him from wearing it outside the hotel room. “And why is that?”

“‘Cause you’re going to start a riot on the beach.” Finn puts his hands on his hips. “Plus, you look too good.”

Kurt giggles. “Too good? So shouldn’t you want to show me off a little?” He walks over to Finn and Puck and trails a hand down each of their chests. “I did well,” he muses. 

“Is this one of those desensitization programs?” Puck asks, grinning at Kurt. “So that in a few years we’re all wearing suits like yours?” Puck slides one finger under the edge of Kurt’s suit and moves it a few inches before letting it snap back into place. 

“Would I do that?” Kurt says. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Come on. Remember, we can get chairs and an umbrella and sand and waves, Finn.”

Finn has to look up, because he’s still sort of completely staring at Kurt in the tight little pink Speedo. “Hmm? Beach?”

“Yes. Beach. Us, now.” Kurt grabs Finn’s hand and then wraps his other around Puck’s. “Don’t you want to see the ocean up close?”

“As long as there’s no jellyfish. And maybe you should wrap a towel around you or something before we go down there,” Finn says. “Did you get sunscreen on the backs of your legs?”

“No purple flag, I have on plenty of sunscreen, and really, darling?”

“I think you can glare menacingly or something,” Puck suggests. “If necessary, I mean.”

“They can look _once_ , because he’s nice to look at and they can’t help it,” Finn says, holding up one finger. “Just once. Second look and I’m kicking their asses.” 

Kurt giggles. “What if you look more than once? Are you going to kick your own ass?” He picks up one of the keys and hands it to Finn. “Also, you have to keep track of the key.”

Finn puts the room key into the small pocket in his swim trunks, which theirs pretty obviously don’t have room for. “My ass isn’t much good to you if I kick it,” he says. “Anyway, me and Puck are allowed to look at you more than once. You like it and you’re _ours_.”

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt agrees, swinging open the door. “And both of you will help me get unsandy later, right?”

“I’ll even help you if you don’t get that sandy at all,” Finn says. “We’ll give you a good check when we get back to the room.”

 

Puck had expected it not to be too huge of a deal. The ocean is more than he expected, though; miles and miles of water, and he doesn’t even want to think about how far you could go in a straight line before you hit land again. The waves are louder than he expected, too, and the water more blue and clear. 

“Wow,” he finally says, as the three of them stand on the wet sand, not far from where the waves are crashing. 

“I thought the Great Lakes were big,” Finn says. “But this is huge.”

“That boat out there looks small,” Kurt agrees. “But I know intellectually it’s quite large.” He exhales. “Well. Shall we?”

Finn’s only response is a loud whoop and he runs headlong into the ocean, where a wave promptly knocks him over. He comes up sputtering slightly and then whoops again. 

“Maybe with slightly less enthusiasm,” Puck says wryly, grabbing Kurt’s hand and pulling Kurt with him towards Finn. “Shit.” He sways a little. “Those things are strong!”

“They are!” Kurt agrees, looking surprised. “Ack!”

“Kurt! Puck!” Finn shouts. “If you get out past the sand, it’s not so bad. Come on!”

“Past the sand?” Kurt repeats, looking puzzled, but they walk further out, then start swimming, and Puck realizes after the third wave catches him that ducking under is probably the better plan. 

“It really is salty,” Puck says, even though he knows it sounds a little dumb. 

“Guys! I totally just saw a real live fish!”

“It’s warmer than I expected,” Kurt says, bouncing up a little with a wave. “So warm.”

Puck smirks. “So, K, why don’t you tell us about the wave motion—”

Kurt shrieks and tries to push Puck under, both of them laughing. 

“Aah! It touched me! The fish touched me!” Finn shouts. 

“He liiiikes you,” Puck yells with a grin. “The fish wants to swim with you, Finn.”

Finn swims back in their direction, looking over his shoulder. “Seriously, guys, this fucking fish is following me!”

“Was it a good touch or a bad touch?” Kurt giggles. “Maybe he likes your swim trunks.”

“Do you think it’s a piranha?” Finn asks, as he swims close to Puck. 

“No, dude,” Puck answers, shaking his head. “Those only live in, like, Indonesia or something. Southern Hemisphere.”

“I think it’s Brazil, actually,” Kurt says. “Still not really a concern in the Gulf of Mexico.”

“Dude. Seriously, do you think, it might be a really small shark?” Finn moves so he’s treading water right behind Puck. 

“No, Finn,” Kurt says calmly. “It’s just a tiny little fish that likes you.”

“It wants to go home with you,” Puck snickers. “You’ve attracted an admirer. I don’t know that we want to share you with another species, though.”

“Why does it like me? _Why is it still following me?_ ”

“It’s never seen such a tall human before?” Puck suggests. 

“I told you, it’s the swim trunks.”

“Or.” Puck pauses for effect. “It knows your name.”

“ _Dude!_ ” Finn splashes water at Puck. “Uncool. This is serious. It might be a dangerous fish.”

“You are… many times bigger than it is. Many.” Kurt giggles at Finn, going under for a moment and then shaking his head. “It’s so cute, Finn. It just wants to be your friend.”

“Yeah, well, you keep seeing it as Nemo if you want to. I’m not sure it’s not venomous,” Finn says. “Fish aren’t supposed to follow people.”

“Fish are friends, not food,” Puck intones. 

“Maybe I should try speaking to it in whale,” Finn says. “That might work.”

“Sure, darling,” Kurt nods, biting his lip. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll try dolphin.”

Puck frowns. “Does that mean I have to try some _other_ sea mammal? ‘Cause.”

“How about shark?” Finn suggests. “You could— aw, it’s gone!”

“See? Now you miss the little guy,” Puck says, looking around them. “Maybe he’ll come play tomorrow.”

“I hope nothing bigger ate him,” Finn says, peering down at the water like he’s looking for the fish. 

“I thought he was venomous?” Kurt says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure nothing bigger would eat an Avowed Venomous Fish.”

“Maybe the other fish don’t know. Maybe he’s not out as venomous yet!”

“I think if we’re using fish as metaphor, it’s time to swim somewhere else,” Kurt declares. “Possibly so I can fling wet sand at both of you. I’m not sure why that sounds like something to do, but it does.”

“What are we using fish as?” Finn asks, looking puzzled. “And don’t throw sand on me, that’s mean!”

“But then I get to clean you off,” Kurt argues, starting to float in with one of the waves. “Maybe this is what they mean by ‘catch a wave’.”

“I do feel like someone should be playing the Beach Boys,” Puck says. “Even though I don’t see anyone surfing right here.”

“Wipeout!” Finn shouts, grabbing Puck’s shoulders and shoving him under the water.

 

After Finn comes back from the room with shirts for all three of them and some shorts for Kurt—there’s no way Kurt can go into a restaurant in a pink Speedo—they start walking down the beach in the direction of the boardwalk, where all the restaurants are. 

“We should have kept your friend the fish as food after all,” Puck says when his stomach grumbles. “Hopefully they have plenty of _his_ friends.”

“He was a venomous fish. You’re not supposed to eat those,” Finn says. When they get a little closer to the boardwalk, Finn spots the little restaurant that looks like a beach shack, and announces, “There. We are eating there.”

“The Dock?” Kurt reads the sign, sounding dubious. “Well. Okay. It looks very local.”

“Maybe they have their own fishermen?” Puck says. 

“It looks awesome. Come on, it’s a food adventure!” Finn says. “It’ll be great! I hear music coming out of it!”

“If it turns out to be Journey, I’m not setting a single toe in it,” Kurt says, shuddering. 

“If it turns out to be Journey, I’ll have the uncomfortable suspicion we tripped over Schue’s honeymoon.” Puck snorts and shakes his head. “But I think it’s older than Journey, so we’re okay.”

“Adventure,” Finn repeats. “We’re going in.”

“We’re going, we’re going,” Puck says, angling towards the entrance. “At least they don’t seem like they really expect sand–free customers.”

“I just assumed my feet would be perpetually sandy until well after we left,” Kurt admits. “It didn’t occur to me to futilely try and keep them otherwise.”

“At least it’s _just_ your feet, dude,” Finn says. “We’re not talking about where _I’m_ sandy.”

“Oh, no, that we’ll put in a very good effort to make sand–free,” Kurt says, grinning as they reach the open doorway. 

“We can inspect and scrub thoroughly,” Puck offers. 

“It’s like that exfoliating thing, right?” Finn asks. “Oh, hey, look! Karaoke!”

The hostess looks up and waves her hand. “You boys go on and seat yourselves. Not dinner rush yet.”

“Definitely like exfoliating,” Kurt nods, grabbing both Puck and Finn’s hands and pulling them with him towards the bar, though it’s the end of the bar furthest away from the karaoke machine. “Counter or booth?”

“That booth’s nice and… hidden.” Puck grins. 

“See? Told you this place was an eating adventure,” Finn says. The three of them slide into a booth, Puck and Kurt on one side, and Finn on the other, so he has enough table room for all the food he plans on ordering. 

“I’m not even naked, though,” Kurt says. “Not even close to naked, since you insisted I put on more clothes.”

“I can’t eat with you in that thing. It’s distracting,” Finn insists. “Seriously.”

“Oh?” Kurt tilts his head and grins. “Why, darling? What do you want to do about that?”

“I just want to eat my fried… oooh, there’s all kinds of fried stuff on here, look!” Finn says, quickly turning his attention to the menu. “We’re not talking about your sorta–bathing suit right now. We’re talking about how the appetizer basket thing has fried oysters, fried shrimp, hushpuppies, and jalapeno poppers.”

“So the question we need to ask the server,” Puck jokes, “is if we need three of those for all of us to get appetizered. Appetited?”

“Dude, _appeteased_.”

“No, tease is something I do,” Kurt says absently. “I wonder if they card.”

“But you always follow through. The seafood doesn’t,” Finn points out. “I could go up to the bar and find out. What do you want, something fruity and tropical? I bet I could get you that.”

“I do not require a paper umbrella,” Kurt says, pursing his lips. “Cocktail, beer. Something to go with our fried appetizer and the meal itself.”

“I wonder if they’d bring me a side of bacon,” Puck says. “They have a bacon burger. I just want some bacon to go with my shellfish.”

“You want me to find out if they’ll bacon something up for you?” Finn asks. “I’m good with waitresses and stuff.”

“Finn Hudson, Waitress Ambassador.” Kurt grins. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“Here comes a server now,” Puck says, nodding his head to the side and looking behind Finn. “You can just smile real big at her.”

Finn does plaster on his very best, brightest smile as the waitress approaches the table. 

“Hello!” the waitress says brightly. “How are you boys today?” She sets down a glass of water for each of them and runs through the specials. “Sound good?”

“Yeah, that all sounds great,” Finn says, smiling at her even bigger. “But, do you guys have anything that’s wrapped in bacon? I mean, I saw BLTs on the menu, so I know there’s bacon _here_ , but like shrimp or scallops or something. Only with bacon.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t. We’re not too busy yet.” She smiles back at Finn. “I’ll ask the cook. Everyone want bacon?”

“Just me, I think,” Puck says. “Nothing says bad Jew like bacon _and_ shellfish.”

The waitress laughs. “Okay, bacon-wrapped shellfish for you. What do you want?” she says, looking back at Finn. 

“So this basket of fried stuff. The appetizer one? How many of those do you really think we need to get?” Finn asks. “Could you substitute the bacon things for some of them for Puck?” Finn looks down at the menu again and frowns, then looks back up at the waitress. “You know, I think I’ll just get the appetizer basket thing and some of the corn and crab chowder as my meal. Will that work?”

“Sure thing.” She writes that down and then looks expectantly at Kurt, who orders some kind of fish sandwich with a side of corn on the cob instead of fries. “What do you three want to drink?”

Kurt and Puck look at Finn, and Finn turns to the waitress, his grin widening so much his face kind of hurts a little. “Do you have any flavors of daiquiris other than strawberry?”

“No, but we do have a peach margarita that’s pretty popular.”

“That sounds good. Don’t you guys think that sounds good? I think we’ll get three of those,” Finn says, mentally preparing a ‘my I.D. is in my other swim trunks’ story if he needs it.

“Sure.” The waitress winks at him. “Just remember to bring that I.D. next time.”

“Oh, yeah, we totally will. Beach before this and all that,” Finn says. 

She winks again and pockets her order pad as she walks away, and Puck laughs. “That was easy.”

“The lighting in here is nice and low,” Kurt giggles. 

“I sure hope you guys like peach,” Finn says. “I was kinda afraid to ask anymore questions!”

“Maybe it’s a requirement. Aren’t peaches a big southern thing?” Kurt says. 

“There’s a ’90s song about peaches. Millions of peaches or something.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we need millions of them, or we won’t be able to walk back to the hotel,” Finn says. “Maybe two or three.”

“Here’s your drinks!” the waitress says cheerfully. “I’m Denise, by the way. We’ve got that bacon–wrapped shrimp cooking and your food should be up soon. Are y’all going to the Bands on the Beach after you eat?”

Finn wasn’t aware that there were any bands on the beach, but it sounds like a good plan, so he says, “Yeah. Yeah, we’re gonna go to that. Where is it exactly?”

Puck snorts and kicks Finn’s leg. “On the beach.”

“Ow! I got _that_ part, asshole,” Finn says to him, then turns back to Denise. “Other than on the beach, which obviously is where they are, I mean. Where exactly on the beach?”

Denise laughs. “If you came from the west, you passed it on your way here. It’s a pavillion right down from us. Before you get to the dock.”

“Oh, is that what that was?” Finn nods his head slowly. “Cool. Yeah, that’s awesome. Thanks!”

Kurt picks up his peach margarita and takes a sip as Denise walks away. “It is _very_ peach,” he says, tilting his head. “But overall, not bad.”

“There could, in fact, be millions of peaches in this drink.” Puck shrugs and takes a second drink of his. 

Finn drinks his margarita a little too fast and notices that, yes, it’s very _very_ peach, and also that peach-flavored margaritas apparently create some epic brain freeze when drunk too quickly. “That’s. Wow. Peach.”

“I almost feel like it _should_ have an umbrella, I must admit,” Kurt says. “Bands on the Beach, then, and we should check out the pool at the hotel.”

“And you help me get this sand off before I exfoliate my whole self and there’s none of me left,” Finn adds.

“If it’s late enough when we’re swimming, the kids should all be asleep or whatever, right?” 

“Because I can’t behave?” Finn asks.

“Because none of us can behave,” Kurt answers, shaking his head and taking another drink of his margarita. 

 

Eleven o’clock comes and goes without anyone from the hotel telling them to leave the pool, so the three of them keep swimming. Even though the hotel seems pretty full, there’s been no one out in the pool since the last family left a bit after ten, and Kurt is privately amazed by how much of the sky he can see. 

At eleven-fifteen, though, a polo–shirted employee makes his way towards the pool. He stands at the gate with his hands on his hips and frowns, then calls out, “Hey, you guys have to get out of the pool. It closed fifteen minutes ago!”

“Did it?” Kurt responds. “Nothing changed, so we weren’t sure.”

“There’s a sign posted,” the man says, pointing in the direction of the pool rules sign. 

“Well. None of us are exactly wearing a watch, you see,” Kurt says, swimming to the ladder closest the employee and climbing out. “Those two mostly use their phones, and none of mine are waterproof.”

“Natural mistake to— oh god!” The man blanches when Kurt exits the pool in his pink Speedo, and turns away. “I’ll just let you guys get your towels. Thanks for being so cooperative.”

“Of course,” Kurt manages smoothly, but as soon as he turns away, he starts to giggle. “You two didn’t want to help me give him a show?” he calls out softly. 

“Just admiring the view,” Puck calls back. 

“See, I told you that thing was going to cause problems!” Finn declares. 

“Oh, I think it helped avert a problem, actually. He couldn’t get away from us fast enough.” Kurt picks up a second towel and shakes it towards them. “Come on, we should go sit on the balcony and have a snack.”

“And make sure no one’s too sandy.” Puck smirks and climbs out, grabbing the towel from Kurt and toweling off. 

“I’m still _soooo_ sandy,” Finn says. “I know I am. I can feel it.”

“Then come along, darling.” Kurt tosses the third towel at Finn once Finn’s out of the water. They walk through the lobby, and Kurt waves cheerily at the employee who came to the pool as he stands behind the desk. “We should get a movie one night,” Kurt says, gesturing at the Redbox near the elevators. “But not tonight.”

“It’s too late tonight, I think,” Puck says as they ride up. 

“Yeah, I think we’ve got other stuff to do,” Finn agrees. 

“Other ‘stuff’?” Kurt asks, smirking slightly. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Also, do you still have the key?”

“Yep, but it’s in my pants,” Finn says. “Guess somebody better get it.”

“How ever will we cope?” Puck says. “Better turn away from the security camera.” He wraps an arm around Finn and then slides his other hand under the waistband. “Prepare to open the door,” he jokes, handing the key to Kurt. 

Kurt laughs and opens the door, then curses the fact that they left the air conditioning on full blast. “I’m going onto the balcony,” he announces, walking straight for the sliding doors and stepping back into warmer air. “It’s cold in there.”

“Air conditioning’s turned down,” Puck reports a minute later. “You know, no one can really see us up here, as long as the lights are out inside the room.”

“I think it feels good,” Finn says. “It was hot out there today. Even the pool was kind of warm.”

Kurt sniffs. “Lizard, remember?”

“But a cute lizard,” Finn says. “We can sit out here for a while. It’s nice. You can hear the waves if we stop talking, I bet.”

“Hmm,” Kurt acknowledges, sitting down in one of the plastic chairs. “That’s a large if.”

“We could play the quiet game,” Finn suggests. “Me and Puck used to play that all the time. We sucked at it, but we played it all the time.”

“ _You_ sucked at it. I was good at getting you to laugh,” Puck counters. 

“What does the winner get, if we play?” Kurt asks. 

“The, uh… satisfaction of winning?” Finn offers.

“Oh.” Kurt sighs. “I had a thought, but if you two aren’t interested…"

“What is it?” Puck asks immediately. 

Kurt smirks. “Winner gets to be in the middle.”

“One, two, three, _quiet game_ ,” Finn says quickly, throwing himself into one of the chairs on the balcony, lips pressed together. 

Kurt grins to himself as the silence stretches into a minute. He was never any good at making people _laugh_ when they played this game in elementary school, but he has a whole new set of tools at his disposal now, and Puck was right before – when the lights are out, as they are, no one can really see them. Not from above, not from the sides, not from below, and not from the beach. There’s just enough light to see each other, really, and Kurt lifts his hips enough to pull his swimsuit down and then off, tossing it back in the room and making sure Finn and Puck notice him doing so. 

Finn presses his lips together even harder, glaring at Kurt and shaking his head. Kurt smiles, slowly and deliberately letting his legs fall open. He slides his hand down his chest, then moves it over to Puck’s chest. Puck grins, biting his lip, but still manages to remain silent as Kurt presses his palm flat against Puck’s cock. Kurt turns back to Finn and grins again. Finn narrows his eyes and points at Kurt, but doesn’t make any noise.

Kurt would try to mouth something at Finn, but he’s pretty sure it’s too dark to actually read lips, so instead he stands up, moving his hand from Puck long enough so that he’s standing behind both Puck and Finn, and he leans forward, putting his hand inside Puck’s trunks this time, and sliding his fingers along Finn’s chest. Puck turns towards him and grins, putting his hand around Kurt’s cock, and does try to mouth something, though Kurt can’t make it out. 

Finn’s shoulders shake slightly and he puts his hand across his mouth, like he’s trying to repress laughter. Kurt closes his eyes briefly, then smirks as he opens them again and pinches Finn’s nipple. Usually, he squeaks, so Kurt figures it’s a good place to start. Finn bites down on his own bottom lip and scrunches up his face, but he doesn’t squeak. Kurt frowns and bends down, running his tongue just below the same nipple, and he slowly moves his hand on Puck’s cock. Puck reciprocates, and in lieu of making any noise, Kurt bites down on Finn. 

Finn yelps “fuck” and then sighs loudly. “Guess I lose.”

The difficult part is not giggling at the dejected tone in Finn’s voice, and Kurt lifts his head to press his lips against Finn’s. Kurt moves his hand faster on Puck, and he picks up Finn’s hand with his free hand, trying to get Finn to put his hand on Puck, too. Finn complies, wrapping his hand around Kurt’s on Puck’s cock and moving it in time with Kurt’s hand. Kurt pulls his lips away from Finn’s and turns his head towards Puck, kissing down his neck. He puts his free hand back on Finn, curling his fingers in the hair along the back of Finn’s neck, and tightens their hands on Puck.

Finn leans his head close to Puck’s ear and murmurs, “Come on, asshole. Say something.”

Puck doesn’t say anything, but he does start laughing, and Kurt pulls back, smiling smugly. 

“Oh, I won,” he says airily. 

“Totally surprising,” Finn says. “I wouldn’t have ever thought it would be you.”

“I was horribly, horribly shocked,” Puck agrees. “Are we allowed to go inside so you can collect on your prize?”

Kurt giggles. “It might be softer in there.”

“Ok, then, winner,” Finn says, standing up. “Guess you’re going in there.” He puts his arms around Kurt’s waist and hauls Kurt up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Let’s go!”

“You _do_ realize I’m not a package?” Kurt asks, though he realizes it’s probably faster just to go with it than to protest too much. 

“Oh, you’re a package, alright,” Finn announces, carefully setting Kurt down on the bed. 

“He already unwrapped himself though,” Puck says, grinning. “So I guess he’s not a surprise package.”

“I could be,” Kurt says. “Or you two could start unwrapping yourselves.”

Finn laughs and pulls his clothes off before flinging himself onto the bed next to Kurt. “Ta-da! Unwrapped.”

“I really feel like this should be some kind of museum show of pictures,” Puck says, pulling off his T-shirt and grabbing his phone while he works his trunks off with one hand. “It’d be called ‘Unwrapped’ and it’d have torn paper edges on the photographs.”

“What we really need is a tripod and a timer,” Kurt sighs. “We can make do, though.”

“Yeah, maybe no pictures,” Finn says. 

Kurt frowns. “Why not?”

“I dunno,” Finn answers, shrugging. “Pictures of you guys are cool. Just maybe no pictures of me. I don’t, you know…" He shrugs again. 

“Oh,” Kurt says quietly. “Okay.” He hears Puck put his phone back on the bedside table before the mattress dips again, and Kurt reaches out on either side of him, trailing his fingers down their chests. 

“Just, you know, I ate that whole big basket of fried stuff, and I probably look, you know. Bad or whatever,” Finn continues. “And then there’d be pictures, and if I looked at them, I’d be all…"

“Asshole,” Puck grunts good-naturedly. “Hand K that bottle behind you.”

“What? I’m not an asshole!” Finn says, sounding genuinely confused, but he does hand the bottle to Kurt. 

“Don’t worry, darling. You’re more than just an asshole.” Kurt frowns as he flips open the bottle. “That… possibly sounded much better in my head.” He pours some of the lube onto his fingers, then passes the bottle behind him. “Come a little bit closer.” He starts to hum, giggling a little at himself. 

“Yeah, I think that probably did sound better before you said it out loud,” Finn agrees. 

“Karaoke at the bar, blue eyes, not in bed,” Puck says, running the back of his hand down Kurt’s back. 

“You two are picking on me,” Kurt says, then sniffs. “I’m saddened. Greatly saddened.” He pushes two fingers slowly inside Finn. “I will exact retribution.”

“Terrible,” Finn says. His eyes close and his body relaxes against the mattress. “Worst revenge ever, bossofme.”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, moving his hand exaggeratedly slowly. Puck’s finger slides inside Kurt, and Kurt reaches behind him to pull Puck closer before reaching in front of him to pull Finn in. “I knew everyone would object.”

“Are we in court?” Puck asks, adding a second finger and doing the opposite of Kurt, moving his hand faster. 

“I have no idea,” Kurt confesses, pushing a third finger in. “Ready, darling?”

“Yeah. Yes. Now, Kurt, come on,” Finn whines, pulling on Kurt’s shoulder. 

Kurt smiles to himself, holding his hand out behind him until Puck pours a little more lube in it. He slides his hand over his own cock and then lifts Finn’s leg just enough to start pressing inside. “Yes, darling.” He puts his hand on Finn’s hip and keeps moving until he’s fully inside Finn, then he stops and turns his head. “Baby.”

“Patience, blue eyes,” Puck says wryly, but he removes his fingers and pushes into Kurt, and Kurt has to close his eyes, breathing deeply. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, exhaling. 

Finn’s hand tightens on Kurt’s shoulder. “Kurt. Kurt, please, come on.”

“You want me to move?” Kurt asks, biting on his bottom lip. 

“ _Yes_. Please, yes, move, Kurt, ok? I need you to move.”

Puck’s arm drapes over both Kurt and Finn, resting on Finn’s hip, and Puck rocks forward, pushing Kurt slightly forward. It takes a few moments, but they fall into an easy rhythm, probably not as fast as Finn was wanting, if Kurt had to guess. He reaches in front of Finn with his still–slick hand and wraps it around Finn’s cock. 

“Better, Finn?” Kurt whispers. 

Finn arches off the bed, one of his hands sliding into Kurt’s hair. “Yes, fuck, so much better, _so_ much better.”

Kurt moves his hand faster on Finn, rocking forward into Finn and then back onto Puck, and he bursts into giggles when Puck speaks. 

“Let’s make sure the neighbors know we’re here,” Puck suggests. 

“We’re hard to miss,” Kurt manages through his laughter. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Finn says. “I love vacations.”

Kurt leans down, angling his head towards Finn as Finn lifts his head, and Kurt brings their lips together hard. He pushes his tongue inside Finn’s mouth, then starts moving faster. Puck changes his speed as well, and if the headboard weren’t screwed to the wall, Kurt is sure they’d be banging it against the wall. 

Finn moans into Kurt’s mouth, his fingers digging into Kurt’s back and scalp, and he rocks his hips up harder to meet Kurt’s. When Puck thrusts in harder, Kurt echoes the movement into Finn and then comes, shaking as he continues stroking Finn’s cock rapidly. Finn cries out against Kurt’s lips and then he’s coming all over Kurt’s fingers, clinging to Kurt. Kurt lets himself collapse on top of Finn, then, and Puck thrusts in just a few more times before he comes as well. Puck’s weight settles on top of Kurt, and Kurt’s pretty sure he could actually sleep that way if they all stayed unslippery. 

After a few moments, though, Puck starts to slide, and Kurt can feel himself sliding against Finn, so the three of them move and jostle a bit until they’re curled up on the mattress. Kurt sighs as he burrows under the covers, still in the middle. 

“Love you. I love both of you.” Kurt lets his eyes close again. “This is so good.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees. “Love you too, blue eyes. Love you, darling.”

Finn doesn’t answer for a moment, and when he does his voice is quiet. “I love you guys. I wish we could stay here forever.”

Kurt smiles, a bit sadly. “Me too, Finn.”

 

Finn isn’t all that surprised that Kurt doesn’t want to try sea kayaking with him and Puck. Instead, Kurt stays at the hotel to take a nap, because apparently Finn and Puck wore him out, and if he doesn’t get some beauty sleep, he’s going to look… well, he doesn’t specify who he’s going to look like, but he smiles in a way that makes Finn pretty sure Kurt isn’t thinking anything very nice about _somebody_.

Puck and Finn walk up the beach to the shop that rents boats and kayaks, where they rent a kayak and lifejackets, and then have to sit through some safety lecture so they don’t tip their kayaks over and drown or whatever. 

“Damn,” Puck mutters. “I thought half the fun was gonna be tipping each other over.”

“We’ll do it once we’re too far away for them to see,” Finn promises. They sign the waivers promising they won’t sue if they die or lose an arm or get bitten by a shark, and then they get their kayaks out to where they can climb into them. 

“Just to be clear, though, I’ve never been in a kayak in my life,” Puck says, laughing. 

“I rode in a canoe once,” Finn says. “It’s probably close.”

“We’re poster kids for deprived Midwesterners or something.” Puck grins and picks up his paddle. “At least we can’t stick the wrong end in the water, with this.”

“I bet we could if we tried hard enough,” Finn says. The two of them paddle their kayaks along the shoreline for a while before veering out into deeper water. 

“Good call on doing this in the morning,” Puck says, pausing to pull off his T-shirt. He wipes off his face and tosses it in the bottom of the kayak. “You know, I expected my body to wake me up around 5:30. I just forgot we were an hour behind, here, so I wasn’t expecting the 4:45 wake-up.”

“Yeah, that sucks. I didn’t mind the 5am wake-up call, though,” Finn says. He uses his paddle to splash water in Puck’s direction. “Besides, the sunrise was pretty, so that was cool.”

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t.” Puck grins. “And we got first dibs on the breakfast.” 

“Also cool.”

Puck veers towards Finn, almost bumping their kayaks against each other. “Also a good thing K made sure we had sunglasses.” Puck reaches out and grabs the edge of Finn’s kayak, then tugs on Finn’s T-shirt. “Aren’t you getting hot?” he teases. 

“Good thing Kurt made me put on sunscreen before I got dressed, huh?” Finn asks. He pulls off his T-shirt and stuffs it into the bottom of the kayak. “Otherwise, I’d probably get a weird–shaped tan.”

“Probably.” Puck motions to part of the beach in front of them that sticks out from the rest of the beach. “We should go over there.”

“Looks nice and empty,” Finn agrees, and they paddle their kayaks towards that section of beach. 

“Yep.” Puck smirks. “Guess we lucked out.”

They pull the kayaks up onto the beach, and Finn rifles through the bag on the bottom of the kayak, tossing Puck a bottle of water before opening one himself. “Yeah, it’s probably better that Kurt didn’t come. I don’t think kayaking would be his thing.”

“I think he’d want to know the point,” Puck agrees, opening his bottle of water and drinking about half of it. “He’d want us to have a specific destination or something.”

“This beach right here. That’s our destination.”

“Now it is,” Puck agrees. “It definitely is now.” He throws his T-shirt on the sand and leans back on it. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Finn says. He turns and crawls on top of Puck, pinning him against the ground. “Be stuck on this beach forever, I guess.”

“Hmm. Might get hungry, though,” Puck laughs. 

“Well, you might get hungry, anyway,” Finn says. “ _I_ can just eat you.” He runs his tongue up the side of Puck’s neck. “Mmm. Salty.”

“I always thought people were exaggerating about the ocean and salt water,” Puck says, looking sheepish. “But I think enough time in there and you could use me as a salt lick.”

Finn licks Puck’s collarbone and down to his chest. “Dude, I could use you as one now.”

“Well, if that’s how you want to spend the morning.” Puck shrugs and spreads out his arms, closing his eyes. Finn keeps running his tongue down Puck’s chest, lapping at his nipple and then nipping at the skin over his ribs. Puck wiggles a little, like it almost tickles, but doesn’t laugh. Finn hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Puck’s shorts and slides them down just a little bit.

“How do _you_ want to spend the morning?” Finn asks Puck, resting his chin on Puck’s stomach.

Puck lifts his head slightly and squints. “Too bad the Boy Scouts would kick us out, ‘cause I am well-prepared,” he says with a grin, pointing at his backpack. 

“Sweet!” Finn rolls off of Puck and grabs the backpack, unzipping it and rifling through it until he finds the bottle of lube. “Yeah, we’ve gotta be careful or things might get really sandy really fast.”

“Whole new meaning to safe sex,” Puck says wryly. “Pretty sure there are some parts we don’t want exfoliated.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve got to handle anything that might come anywhere near the sand before we open the lube,” Finn says. He grabs the legs of Puck’s shorts and gives them a hard yank down and off, then makes a point of carefully folding them and setting them on top of the backpack. 

“Dude.” Puck shakes his head and then rolls onto his hands and knees. “We should make sure we don’t get busted for public indecency or something.”

“There’s nobody around for like a half a mile or something, dude, but if you’re worried about it, we should just be quick,” Finn says, pouring lube into his hand and slicking his cock up quickly. “Sound like a good plan?”

“Just thinking about the headlines,” Puck grunts. 

Finn grabs Puck by the hips and slowly pushes forward until he’s completely inside. “I’m a risk–taker,” he says. He slides one hand around to Puck’s cock and starts stroking it in time to his movements. 

Puck snickers, pushing back against Finn. “That’s you, asshole.”

“Yeah it is, asshole,” Finn agrees. “Fuck, baby, we should sea kayak, like, all the fucking time.”

“You just want me shirtless,” Puck counters. “Fuck, there.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, though he’s not entirely sure which part of what Puck said that he’s agreeing to. He thrusts a little harder into Puck and speeds up his hand. “You feel so good. Fuck, baby, love you.”

Puck rocks against Finn, his whole body moving under Finn’s. “More, fuck, so fucking close.”

Finn thrusts harder, almost slamming his hips forward. “Come on, baby, come on, fuck, I love you, love you, Puck.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Puck almost whines, curling up slightly and then coming in Finn’s hand. Finn barely rocks his hips forward before he comes, too, his fingers digging into Puck’s hip too hard. 

Puck collapses onto his shirt, with Finn sprawled on top of him, and they lie there in the sun for a while.

“One little problem,” Puck finally says. 

“Hmm?” Finn asks, because that’s about all he can muster.

“Lube on two sides,” Puck snorts. “I’m stuck to my shirt.”

“Uh. Rinse off in the ocean first?”

“Dude!” Puck shakes his head and starts to push himself up. “Then it’d be like, salt–covered lube.” He freezes. “Or like seaweed.”

“Well, I’m gonna rinse off,” Finn says, shrugging. “And I’ll watch out for seaweed. Fish, too. That could be bad.” He pulls his swim trunks back up with one hand, walks back down to the water and wades in, washing off his hand, then walks back out. Puck has his shorts on again and has stowed the lube back in the backpack. “You ready to hit the high seas again, dude?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Puck agrees. “My chocolate stash melted, though.”

“Maybe we can get you something chocolatey with lunch,” Finn says. They push the kayaks back out into the water and climb in, and continue paddling in the direction they were originally heading. They’re only in the kayaks for about ten minutes before Finn realizes his ass is starting to feel super uncomfortable, and he announces, “Dude, I think the kayak is chapping my ass or something.”

“It’s not a horse,” Puck says, snorting. “Are you sure?”

“Well, it hurts, anyway,” Finn says. “Maybe the bottom of the kayak gets hot or something, ‘cause my ass feels sort of burned.”

Puck stops paddling and looks over at him for a minute, then shakes his head. “Darling,” he says slowly. “When you said Kurt had you put on sunscreen before you got dressed.”

“Yeah, he had me put it on before I put on my shirt.”

Puck winces and starts to turn his kayak around. “Yeah, we should probably head back the way we came.”

“But we’ve still got the kayaks for like an hour or more,” Finn says. “What’s the rush?”

“You said your ass felt burned?” Puck says, quirking an eyebrow. “Probably not going to start feeling _better_.”

“It’s not that bad, dude, seriously. I think the seat’s just hot or something!”

“Or you had your bare ass pointed at the sun with no sunscreen and no prior sun exposure.”

“What?” Finn asks. “Are you trying to say I sunburned my ass? Dude, come on.” He makes a face at Puck.

“That’s what it sounds like!” Puck shrugs. “I mean, it’s possible.”

Finn snorts and rolls his eyes. “Please. What kind of idiot sunburns his _ass_?”

 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I sunburned my _ass_ ,” Finn whines. “I’m such an idiot.”

“At least it doesn’t look like it will blister,” Kurt replies, setting the bottle of aloe on the bedside table, next to the lube, and Puck makes a mental note that they should double-check which bottle they’re picking up each time. 

“This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, counting forgetting hotpads.” Finn buries his face in the pillow and mumbles, “Don’t tell people. Please don’t tell people.”

“Dude, no one would _believe_ us, even if we did tell anyone,” Puck says. “It’s not like it’s a common thing.”

“It’s a perfectly understandable mistake,” Kurt says, but he looks away and bites down on his lower lip, like he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m sure the reflection off the water and the sand did most of the damage.”

“I feel betrayed by my vacation,” Finn says, face still pressed into the pillow. 

“If you’d let us tell people, we could request that they add to the safety spiel,” Puck jokes. “‘Remember to use sunscreen on all body parts that could even possibly be exposed’.”

“I think the kayak people would be more disturbed that their rentals were being used in the pursuit of nefarious purposes,” Kurt says.

“It wasn’t nefarious,” Finn protests. “It was just regular sex!”

Kurt does start laughing at that. “Oh, darling.”

“Maybe you should try going in the pool,” Puck says. “It’s cool without having any salt or seaweed or your friend the fish.”

“I kinda miss my fish,” Finn confesses. “What are you guys gonna do? You can’t just sit around and watch me be pitiful. You two oughta go out and do something nice.”

“And I’m sure he or she misses you, too.” Puck grins and shakes his head. “You want us to bring you anything?”

“Proof you had a good time? Or, I dunno. Something to eat if you stay out really late, I guess,” Finn says. “I think I’m going to take a nap and sleep off my shame.”

“If you’re sure,” Kurt says. “Aloe’s on the table.”

“But make sure it’s the aloe and not the lube.”

“I’ll read the label. Maybe.”

“I don’t think the lube would be detrimental,” Kurt points out. “It just wouldn’t really help.” He picks up Finn’s keys from beside the television and looks around the room. “Drink some water, too.”

“’K,” Finn mumbles, waving a hand in their direction. “Be good you guys.”

“We’re always good,” Puck answers for both of them, and Kurt pulls the door closed behind them softly. 

“Poor Finn.” Kurt shakes his head as they wait for the elevator. “I admit, I probably wouldn’t have thought about sunscreen on my ass, either. Then again, there’s the sand issue.”

“Where should we go?” Puck asks. “I don’t think any of us need our own surfboard or inner tube like most of the places seem to sell.”

“Or a hermit crab,” Kurt agrees. “I was thinking we could go back over to the mainland, in Pensacola itself.”

“Yeah, that works,” Puck nods. “They’ve probably got something at least vaguely interesting.”

“Thought we could see if there’s a club or anything, too,” Kurt says. “It’s not necessarily going to have one, but it might.”

“At least the three of us would more or less blend in _there_.” They climb into the truck, Kurt driving, and Puck navigates them back across the two long bridges and into Pensacola’s downtown area, where they pay five dollars for a parking pass and a ‘helpful guide’ to Pensacola’s ‘downtown shopping district’. 

“I think they should just admit they’re charging five to park,” Kurt says, looking amusedly at the ‘helpful guide’. 

“And miss the chance to find out about—” Puck looks over at the page the guide is open to. “The Grand Reserve Cigar & Smoke Shop? Never.”

Kurt laughs. “I was thinking more like one of the gallerys. Oh, or this place. It says it’s a ‘fine clothier of men’.”

Puck tightens the arm wrapped around Kurt’s waist and shakes his head. “Most people don’t buy a suit on vacation, blue eyes.”

“Oh, I was thinking more like ties. Oh, or see? ‘A unique selection of cuff links’.”

“Let’s go in that gallery there first,” Puck decides, pointing at a sign across the street. “Just, we should skip any store that says ‘antiques’.”

Kurt laughs. “Is that _too_ stereotypical?”

“Even for us,” Puck says solemnly, nodding. 

“We could get cupcakes, though. Oh! And I found a place online earlier. ‘Gourmet To Go’, so we could get dinner and take it back with us.”

Puck grins. “Yeah, that’s good.” They cross the street and walk into the gallery Puck pointed out, where the first room is plastered with photographs of waves and driftwood. 

“That is a very detailed study of driftwood,” Kurt comments, pulling Puck towards the main room, where there’s more variety of subjects, not to mention some bowls and glass on pedestals. 

“Are you here for the class?” a gallery employee calls from behind the desk. “It’s in the back room.”

“Class?” Puck repeats, and he figures he looks a little lost. “Uh, no. No class.”

“What kind of class?” Kurt asks suspiciously, like he’s afraid they’ll be forced to go into the class regardless.

“Beginning painting!” she says brightly. Her tone and the expression on her face are uncomfortably reminiscent of Rachel Berry’s during a new song assignment. “We still have spaces available, if you’re interested!”

“I think we’re more performing artists than visual artists,” Kurt says slowly. “But thank you. We’re just looking.”

“Definitely not a visual artist,” Puck agrees, wincing a little at the thought of wielding paint on anything.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she says, looking terribly disappointed. “Well, let me know if there’s any piece I can show you.”

Kurt nods, and they walk a little farther down the wall. Most of the pieces are themes on pastel, as far as Puck's concerned. It makes the bright colors on a few paintings actually stand out, and Kurt leans against him, studying them. 

"I like these," Kurt says quietly. "They're not boring."

"No," Puck agrees. "They're not. Or disturbing, like those charcoal things."

Kurt shudders, and Puck wraps his arm around Kurt's chest. "I can't believe people actually pay money for those." He tilts his head. "I don't know. It could be nice to have something as souvenir that isn't a T-shirt."

"We could claim to be art patrons," Puck jokes. "We'll tell people that no, our wall art is not mass-produced."

Kurt laughs. "God, you really do want us to be walking cliches, baby."

"Oh, like you wouldn't enjoy that."

"Point," Kurt concedes. "Which one do you like best?"

"The middle one. I like the color and cheesiness in the middle of the typical beach."

"That is utterly unsurprising." Kurt pauses. "But I agree. The very interesting thing is that these are less expensive than some of the others."

"I guess people want typical beach more than this."

"Hmm. Possibly," Kurt concedes. "Let's get the painting class–pusher to help us out then."

"Let's never, ever introduce someone like her to someone like Rachel."

Kurt laughs and they walk back towards the desk and the woman behind it, who seems inordinately pleased that they are purchasing anything at all. Still, they manage to escape without framing or being signed up for any mailing list, which Puck decides is a win. 

They get sidetracked on the way to the ‘fine clothier’ place by a record shop that has stacks wedged in everywhere in the relatively small space. 

“I feel like we’re almost morally obligated to get something,” Kurt says confessatorily. “But we don’t have a turntable.”

“Doesn’t Burt somewhere?” Kurt nods. “Get him some Mellencamp.”

Kurt grins. “He’ll wonder how we went all the way to Florida, and yet we bring him back a vinyl record.”

“Pretty much,” Puck agrees, matching Kurt’s grin. 

“He would just get oil on a T-shirt, probably,” Kurt admits. “Or baby–mess.” He shrugs. “Good plan.”

On the other hand, the ‘fine clothier’ just results in Kurt making faces at their selection. “You can’t really compare a beach town in Florida to New York, I’m thinking,” Puck says under his breath when Kurt makes an especially exaggerated frown. The worker frowns at both of them, and Puck figures they’ll have to buy something soon or leave even sooner. 

“No, I suppose not,” Kurt says, sighing a bit. “You’re right. We should go pick out cupcakes and then we can grab dinner?”

Puck nods his agreement, and they make it halfway towards the cupcake place before they stop and get ice cream, sitting on the sidewalk and watching people walking by. The funny thing, in Puck’s view, is that they get plenty of people watching them, too, and Puck rolls his eyes at Kurt when one woman’s eyes widen almost comically. 

“Is it the ice cream, the vinyl, or the art?” Puck asks innocently.

“The ice cream, definitely,” Kurt laughs, and after they finish their cones, they manage to limit themselves to a total of six cupcakes. “We can’t walk to the dinner place,” Kurt says after he frowns at his phone for a bit. “Did we want to go anywhere else?”

“I am totally okay with skipping the Museum of Industry.” Puck grins. 

“Strangely, I am as well.” Kurt pockets his phone and takes Puck’s hand again. “Let’s go get dinner, then. It is later than it looks. At least to us. I hate time zones.”

Puck laughs and kisses Kurt briefly. “Don’t worry about the numbers, blue eyes.”

 

“Pick one of your cupcakes,” Kurt suggests, opening the box and looking in. “And we’ll go down to the beach and watch the sunset and look for your friend, Finn.”

Finn picks a cupcake from the box without seeming to put too much thought into it. “Do you think fish like cupcakes? We could try to lure him in.”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” Puck answers. “Besides, we told you. It’s all you.”

“Plus that would be be a waste of a perfectly good cupcake, I think,” Kurt says, picking up his own cupcake. “It’d be like those bakeries for dogs.”

“Those things are so weird,” Finn says. He shakes his head and takes a bite of his cupcake. “Oh, man, that’s a good cupcake.”

“So much for eating on the beach,” Puck laughs, and the three of them head to the elevator and then out onto the beach. 

“I don’t see your fish, but I do see a couple of sea mammals,” Kurt says as they stand on the sand.

“Cool! Look at them jumping!” Finn points at the dolphins. “No offense to my fish, but they’re way awesomer.”

“They’re having a party. Or at least they look like they are,” Puck says. “Dolphin party.”

“I suppose they get fish cupcakes,” Kurt says, giggling a little. “We should see if they come in any closer.”

“We could try to swim out near them,” Finn suggests. “I’m done with my cupcake.”

“Yeah, we should,” Puck agrees, a little more enthusiastically than Kurt would prefer. “It’d be awesome.”

“Aren’t we supposed to stay away from wild animals?” Kurt asks, pursing his lips. 

“We’re not harassing them. Just approaching them,” Puck says. 

“We’re just going to go swimming a little, and if they approach _us_ , that’s not our faults,” Finn says. 

“Right,” Kurt says dubiously, but when Puck and Finn head into the water, Kurt follows behind them. 

“I mean, if they’re really wild, they’ll be scared of us, right?” Puck calls as they swim. “And if not, maybe they’ll jump or something for us.”

“Look, there’s a third one. It’s a whole family!” Finn shouts. 

There is a third one, not jumping as high as the other two, which explains why they didn’t see it before, though Kurt’s pretty sure it’s not a mom–dad–baby family, since they’re all the same size, more or less. “They seem to be neither scared nor impressed by us,” Kurt says dryly, pausing to tread water. 

“They haven’t gotten a good look at your swimsuit yet, or they’d be impressed,” Puck jokes. 

“Then you’d have an ocean stalker, too,” Finn says.

“Have you had any visits from your fish?” Kurt asks. “Though technically I suppose he shouldn’t visit while we’re near the dolphins.”

“Fish are friends, not food,” Puck repeats. “Better try saying that in dolphin.”

“Nah, he’s usually closer to shore, anyway,” Finn says. “When the dolphins go, we’ll go look for him. He needs a name, I think.”

“Roger.”

“Why Roger, baby?” Kurt asks, frowning. 

“Why not?” Puck shrugs. 

“Like the AV kid?” Finn says. “Dude, that’s not cool to do to my fish!”

“The AV kid?” Puck repeats blankly. “Oh. Right. The dude that stole my phone. Hmm. Percy.”

“Sounds British. He doesn’t look like a British fish.”

“Duh.” Puck shakes his head, but doesn’t explain why that’s a duh–worthy statement. 

“Jeff,” Kurt suggests. 

“For a fish? Really?” Finn gives Kurt a dubious look. “These are all people names.”

“I didn’t know there were lists of fish names,” Kurt says. “Are we going to attempt to swim closer to the dolphins or can we go look for the nameless fish now?”

“I think they’re leaving,” Puck says, pointing at the dolphins, who do seem to be leaping farther away. 

“Yeah, I think that’s better anyway,” Finn says. “They’re a lot bigger up close than I realized and their teeth looked kind of sharp.”

“Good,” Kurt says, relieved, and he stops treading water, letting the waves take him part of the way in. 

“Didn’t want to swim with a dolphin?” Puck asks, grinning. 

“Not unless we’re at Sea World.”

“Guys? Hey, guys!” Finn calls suddenly. “I totally found my fish!”

“The odds are not high,” Kurt murmurs to Puck, who nods. 

“I won’t tell him if you won’t?” Puck says quietly, then raises his voice. “Does he still like you?”

“Oh, shit, he’s touching me! Guys!”

“He likes you, we told you,” Kurt calls. “He’s not going to hurt you, darling.”

Puck laughs and swims towards Finn. “Like I said. He knows your name.”

“I think he’s trying to eat my shorts! Or, like, _mate_ with them or something!”

“Hey, back off,” Puck says, looking down at the water. “We aren’t good at sharing.” He slings one arm around Finn and then kisses him. “Think that’ll get the message across?”

Kurt giggles and floats on his back a few feet away. “Maybe.”

“He’s swimming away,” Finn says. “I think he’s scared of Puck’s swim suit. Red means danger.”

“Nah, he just figured out he was outnumbered.”

Kurt rights himself and crosses to them. “Probably,” he agrees, sliding an arm around both Finn and Puck. “Do we want to swim in the pool where we’ll be able to see, or do we want to get a movie and eat our other cupcakes?”

“I vote movie and cupcakes, because that’s nakeder,” Finn says. 

“Let’s go see what they have, then,” Kurt says after Puck doesn’t object, tugging both of them out of the waves and onto the sand. 

“I still don’t care if I ever see _The Artist_ , Oscar or not,” Puck grumbles. “You should have heard this guy in Dayton going on and on about it, Finn. You would have thought it was, I don’t know. The most ground-breaking movie ever.”

“What’s it about?” Finn asks. He picks up their towels and hands Puck and Kurt theirs. 

“I have no idea,” Puck says, shrugging. “I think I’ve actively tried not to learn what it’s about, actually.”

“It’s a silent film,” Kurt explains. “About silent films.”

“Is that ironic? I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be ironic or not,” Finn says, furrowing his brow. “Seems like it could go either way.”

“I think we’d have to watch it to find out, so I guess we’ll have to not find out,” Puck says mock–sadly as they walk inside. “Hey, look. Free popcorn tonight.”

“We chose wisely with the movie–watching, then,” Kurt says. “Why don’t you two go look at the Redbox and I’ll get some popcorn first?”

“Maybe they have _Love is War_ ,” Finn says. 

“That looked dumb,” Puck counters, shaking his head, and Kurt can’t hear what Puck continues to say as they walk off to the Redbox.

Kurt collects several small bags of popcorn from the bored–looking employee, then walks over towards Puck and Finn, who are still looking at the selection. 

“Well, they don’t have that, either,” Finn sighs. “Maybe we should just get _Finding Nemo_.”

“Forty-two Wallaby Way, Sydney, Australia,” Kurt quips. 

“I’ve been telling you. Fish are friends, not food.” Puck shrugs. “ _Finding Nemo_ works. At least we already know the plot.”

“And it’s ok if we miss parts of it,” Finn adds. “Ok, then.” He starts to reach into the small pocket in his swim trunks, then stops. “Oh, shit, I’ve only got the room key!”

“Well, one of us can come back down to get it. Luckily, it’s unlikely to sell out in ten minutes,” Kurt reasons.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Puck agrees. “If someone else does get it, I’ll chase them down and steal it.”

“I, uh. Might need some more aloe,” Finn say, a little sheepishly. He shifts slightly from foot to foot. “Still can’t believe I’m that big of an idiot.”

“So we’ll not send you back down,” Kurt says wryly, heading for the elevator. “Puck can come rent and/or possibly steal _Finding Nemo_ , and I’ll put more aloe on you.”

“I will only resort to thievery if absolutely necessary, I promise,” Puck laughs. The elevator comes relatively quickly, and once they get back to the room, Puck heads back down with both room key and debit card. 

“Okay, darling,” Kurt says, pulling off his wet swimsuit and pulling on a pair of sweatpants that he’s pretty sure he stole from Puck. “Lie down and let’s take care of this. No, wait. Go drink a bottle of water and take an Advil first.”

“Ok, bossofme,” Finn says. He slides off his swim trunks and takes some Advil, then comes back over to the bed. 

“On second thought, go rinse off in the shower,” Kurt says, wincing a little. “You don’t want salt and everything on that burn.”

“Yeah, a nice cool one, I think,” Finn agrees, and he walks into the bathroom and turns the water on, not closing the door behind him. “You want to join me or you want to wait for a hot shower with Puck?”

“Remember, I’m cold-blooded,” Kurt responds, shaking his head. “On that note, I’m considering a sweatshirt, too.”

Finn laughs and then steps into the shower. He doesn’t stay in long, nor does he spend much time drying off before he walks back into the room, hair still dripping. “Aloe time?”

Kurt can’t help but smile at the little puddles Finn’s leaving. “Aloe time, darling,” he agrees. “Now you can lie down.” 

Finn flops face first onto the bed, which shakes slightly. “How does my ass look?” he mumbles, face pressed into the bed cover.

“Oh, well, I’m a fan,” Kurt says off-handedly. “But it is a bit pinker than usual.” He squirts some aloe onto his hand and smooths it over one side of Finn’s ass. “Better?”

“Mmmhmm. You can keep on doing that if you want,” Finn says. “There’s a whole other side. And I might have some burn on the front, too, that I just didn’t notice before.”

Kurt giggles. “Oh, you might, hmm?” He puts more aloe on his hands, running them gently over both sides this time. “It’s good it didn’t bother you before.”

“Yeah. The water was so nice, I guess I just didn’t notice,” Finn says. He closes his eyes and sighs contentedly. “Seriously, that feels so awesome, Kurt.”

“We’ll make sure you don’t have anything abrasive against it tonight,” Kurt says softly, leaning forward and kissing between Finn’s shoulder blades. “It’ll feel better quickly, I think. It’s not really that bad. And you’ve kept yourself hydrated.”

“Yeah, it’s not so bad,” Finn murmurs. “Still feels nice.”

The door clicks with Puck putting the room key in, and Puck enters a moment later. “I did not have to steal _Finding Nemo_ ,” he reports, setting down the cards and heading towards the television to put the DVD in. “I did, however, have to intervene with the happy honeymooning couple in front of me.”

Finn smiles sleepily and says, “Did they need honeymoon sex advice?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, that would have hilarious. No, none of the choices seemed ‘romantic’ enough for them. I finally told them to watch _Fever Pitch_ which was a serious sacrifice on my part.”

Kurt looks at Puck quizzically. “Why?”

“Red Sox.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Right. You picked a team based on pinstripes, baby.”

Puck shrugs. “Yeah, but I still _picked_ ‘em. Anyway, I was mainly trying to get them out of the way.” He picks up the remote and settles on the bed. “Finn? You awake?”

“Mmhmm. Aloe on my ass. Feels _gooood_. Kurt should do more aloe.”

“You heard the man,” Puck says, hitting play. “Though after awhile, I guess it starts to build up.”

“He’ll have an inch of aloe or something,” Kurt agrees. “Really, darling, by now, I don’t think you’re getting additional benefit from the aloe.” He runs his hand up Finn’s back lightly, pressing another kiss to the back of Finn’s neck.

“I think he really is asleep now,” Puck says, shaking his head, and when Kurt pulls back slightly, he nods. 

“Yes.” Kurt leans back against Puck’s chest. “I didn’t even notice you getting undressed.”

“I was very fast?” Puck snorts, wrapping his arm across Kurt. “He’s probably out for the night. That burn’s not that bad, but.”

“No, but he probably is. We did wake up rather early. We should all try to nap tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Oh, hey, when we stopped to get lunch, Finn noticed they have karaoke tomorrow night.”

Kurt giggles. “We should do that. We can pick out songs for each other.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees, kissing Kurt’s neck. “That works.” He slides his hand down Kurt’s chest and under the waistband. “I think these were mine once.”

“I wanted to get into your pants,” Kurt deadpans, then giggles again. 

“You don’t have to steal anything to do that,” Puck counters, wrapping his fingers around Kurt’s cock. 

“Mmm. Very true.” Kurt reaches down and slides the sweatpants down to his knees, then kicks them off. Puck laughs in Kurt’s ear, then nibbles at it, and Kurt rolls over slowly. “Going to fuck you nice and slow, baby.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Puck agrees, running his free hand through Kurt’s hair and pulling Kurt down to him. Kurt parts his lips as soon as they meet Puck’s, and while they’re kissing, Kurt reaches for the lube. 

Kurt flips the top and pours some of the lube onto his fingers, reaching between them and running his fingers lightly over Puck’s cock before moving to circle his entrance. Kurt pulls back and grins down at Puck. “What do you want, baby?”

“Don’t tease,” Puck admonishes, taking the lube from Kurt and running his hand over Kurt’s cock. “You know what I want.”

“I do.” Kurt nods and pushes one finger in slowly. “Going to fill you up. Soon. Not yet.”

“Blue eyes,” Puck whines, and Kurt smirks. 

“Nope, not yet.” Kurt moves his finger in and out slowly, then adds a second finger. “Like I said, nice and slow, Puck. Nice and slow.”

“It’s very slow,” Puck agrees, frowning slightly and pushing back against Kurt’s finger. “Definitely slow.”

“Don’t complain,” Kurt whispers into Puck’s ear. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

Puck nods his agreement, pulling Kurt back down into another kiss, and Kurt pulls his fingers completely out before pushing three back in. Puck tightens around them, then relaxes, and Kurt deepens the kiss, moving his fingers faster. 

“Now,” Kurt says decisively, pulling away and moving to position himself before pushing inside Puck in one slow, long motion. He stops once he’s fully inside and tilts his head. “Better?”

Puck grins. “Yeah. That’s better.”

Kurt starts to move slowly, wrapping his hand around Puck’s cock and moving it in the same rhythm. “Thought you’d agree.” He keeps the same speed, dragging himself almost all the way out of Puck before pushing back in. “Or I could go slower.”

“No,” Puck answers quickly, drawing out his response. “No need for that.”

Kurt giggles and leans forward into a kiss, his hand tightening on Puck’s cock. Puck runs his tongue along Kurt’s lips, and Kurt pushes his own tongue out to meet Puck’s. Kurt keeps fucking Puck slowly, his hand moving on Puck, and he’s almost surprised when he feels Puck’s body start to coil in. Part of him was happy to just keep going, keep feeling, but then he moves just a little faster, his hand a little tighter, and he feels Puck’s fingers pull at his hair. 

Puck breaks away from their kiss long enough to cry out as he comes, tight around Kurt, and Kurt continues thrusting in a few more times before coming as well, collapsing on top of Puck. Puck wraps his arms around Kurt, then reaches for something off to the side. 

“Want to clean up?” Puck murmurs.

“Mmm, we should,” Kurt agrees, taking the towel that Puck must’ve grabbed off the chair nearby. They wipe off and then Puck tosses the towel in the direction of the bathroom before they shift on the bed. Finn sighs in his sleep and rolls toward them, throwing his arm across them and pulling them close. 

“Night, Finn,” Puck says, sounding amused. “Night, Kurt.”

“Good night, you two,” Kurt responds, listening to Marlin and Dory talking in the background. “We’ll have to finish the movie in the morning.”

Finn nuzzles the side of Kurt’s head and mumbles, in a breathy sing-song, “What do we do? We swim.”

 

Finn’s sunburned ass feels a lot better when he wakes up on Thursday morning, and they eat free hotel breakfast, then swim in the ocean for almost two hours before coming in to get showered and dressed in real clothes. The three of them walk along the beach to the boardwalk looking for lunch, and settle on a hot dog place/deli, because they’re already planning on eating dinner at the Dock for karaoke night. 

After they eat, they walk back to the hotel, where they fuck like all three of them are thinking what Finn is thinking—that anything they do, this could be the last time they do it—and then nap for a while. After about half an hour of dozing, Finn wakes up to Puck kissing him, so they kiss for awhile and then go back to sleep. After another half hour, or maybe longer, Finn wakes up to Kurt kissing him, and the two of them keep kissing until Puck wakes up. 

“Good nap?” Puck murmurs, running his hand down Finn’s arm. 

Finn pulls away from Kurt, just a little, and answers, “Yep. I feel rested.”

“Rested enough to go swim?” Kurt asks. “Or just rested enough to be awake in bed?”

Puck grins. “Are we trying to take another nap?”

“Nah, we should go down to the pool for a little while,” Finn says. “Work up an appetite and make ourselves tired again. Plus, probably not a lot of outdoor pool opportunities for, like, awhile.”

“Do they close the outdoor pools in Wisconsin in mid-August?” Puck asks, hiding a smirk. 

“No, they’re only open for a week,” Kurt joins in. “Seven days straight including the fourth of July and the days around it.” Kurt grins and bends over, kissing Finn again. “As opposed to New York, which has no outdoor pools, period.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh. Gonna be cold up there,” Finn says. He wishes he hadn’t said that thing about the outdoor pools, because now they’re talking about New York and Wisconsin, and he’s not supposed to have to think about that for at least a few more days. “Let’s just go get in the pool.”

“Are you going to cannonball in again?” Kurt asks, sliding off the foot of the bed and walking towards the bathroom. “Because that was an impressive splash.”

“Maybe not on _top_ of me this time?” Puck says, as Kurt comes back out of the bathroom and tosses their suits at them. 

Finn laughs while he pulls on his swim trunks. “I’ll aim it more to the side this time, I promise.”

“I appreciate that,” Puck says wryly, pulling on his own suit. “We should have bought one of those floating rafts for K.”

“Are you saying I should float on a chaise?” Kurt asks. “Because I happen to agree with you.”

“Boss of the pool, bossofme,” Finn says. He grins at Kurt. “We could carry you down on our shoulders if you need us to.”

“I’d hit my head on the ceiling,” Kurt says, sounding a little sad about it. “Maybe in the pool itself.”

“A strange form of chicken,” Puck says. 

“You’re a strange form of chicken,” Finn responds. 

Puck looks at him strangely and shakes his head. “Sure.”

“Well, let’s head downstairs to scare the other inhabitants,” Kurt says cheerfully, opening the door. 

They head down the elevator and out to the pool, and Kurt only gets a few looks as they walk through the hotel, which is good, because for some reason, Finn feels like he’s maybe looking for a reason to start a fight. A hotel in Pensacola’s probably a bad place for Finn to punch somebody, though. 

The pool’s more crowded than it was the previous couple of times they swam in it, and there’s a group of kids, maybe just starting high school by the looks of them, out there playing Marco Polo. Finn gets immediately swept into the game by just shouting “Polo” when the kids do, and after a few shouts of “Polo,” Puck joins in. 

Kurt sits on the edge of the pool, avoiding the shallow end where there’s a few small kids, and watches them for a few minutes. Finn gets tagged and has to close his eyes and shout out “Marco,” and in the chorus of voices responding “Polo,” he hears Kurt’s voice. Puck’s voice comes from somewhere on Finn’s left, and the group of kids are all pretty noisy as they swim, but Finn makes a beeline for the sound of Kurt’s voice. Finn reaches out, and his fingers just barely touch someone’s skin. 

Kurt squeals, and his hand grabs Finn’s forearm. “I feel targeted.”

Finn opens his eyes and smiles at Kurt. “You’re the easiest to find.”

Kurt narrows his eyes slightly. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

Finn just shrugs. “You don’t get lost in the crowd, I guess. That’s a good thing.”

“Oh.” Kurt tilts his head. “I suppose so.” He leans in and kisses the corner of Finn’s mouth. “You’d better watch out, though. You aren’t easily lost in a crowd either, darling.”

 

Karaoke, Puck decides, is a lot more fun when it’s not in Lima and there’s no Rachel Berry present. Karaoke without Rachel around is less like a competitive sport and more like something that’s just fun. Of course, Puck also acknowledges that the couple of beers in them, and the people around them having more than just a couple of beers in _them_ , could also have something to do with it. 

“You know,” Puck says loudly, trying to make sure Finn and Kurt can both hear him. “There’s a decided lack of Journey here.”

“We should remedy that,” Kurt says, laughing. “Inspire the masses.” He gestures expansively around the interior of the restaurant. 

“I bet they’ve got _something_ Journey,” Finn shouts over the noise. “I’m gonna sign us up.” 

“Put all three of our names down,” Kurt orders. “In case we want to sing more than one song.”

“That,” Finn says, with an exaggerated point of his finger in Kurt’s direction, “is a great idea.” He walks, a little unsteadily, up to the table with the sign up sheet and leans over to scribble down their names. Halfway through, he looks back at the table and grins broadly at them. 

“We should probably cut him off at some point,” Puck says to Kurt, who nods. 

“We’ll tell Denise. She’s already due a big tip!”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, she is.”

Finn comes back to the booth and drops down into his seat. “Ok, you guys, we’re all signed up.”

“Excellent,” Kurt says brightly. “Did you check to see what Journey they had?”

“We should be ground-breaking and _not_ do ‘Don’t Stop’,” Puck says very seriously. “Also we should get someone to video us.” He looks up and sees Denise coming towards them, and he shakes his head slightly. She stops and nods, then smiles before she turns and heads to a different table. 

“They can use my phone!” Finn says. He pulls the phone out of his pocket and sets it down on the table. “We need to document this for, uh. That… thing. That you document stuff for.”

“Posterity,” Kurt supplies. “Posterity. And maybe our friends.”

“Nah. They’d just be sad they weren’t as awesome.” Puck grins. 

“Some of them’ll just be sad that we got to do karaoke without them stealing the microphone,” Finn says. 

“That’s what makes this karaoke much more enjoyable,” Kurt says, echoing Puck’s earlier thoughts. “Ooh! Did they say your name already?”

“I doubt there’s more than one Finn here,” Puck laughs. “Could you imagine? It’d be like. A Finnvention.”

“Finns to the left, Finns to the right,” Finn agrees, nodding his head like this is the most serious topic they could be discussing. 

“Let’s go!” Puck says, standing up and dragging both Kurt and Finn with him. “Let’s find us some Journey.”

They reject “Don’t Stop Believin’”, “Wheel in the Sky”, and “Anyway You Want It” all before Puck rejects “Faithfully” with his best fake puking rendition. Considering how often he _actually_ pukes, it’s pretty good – good enough to fake out one of the other servers, who runs over with a trash can, and to make Finn’s eyebrows squish together in concern. 

“How about ‘Open Arms’?” Kurt says, clearly trying hard not to laugh. “I think that would be lovely.”

“Sure,” Puck laughs. “Why not? Finn?”

“If you’re sure you’re ok,” Finn answers, still looking worried. 

“Dude. I was faking,” Puck says, slinging his arm around Finn’s waist. “No puking, I promise. At least not from me. That guy over in the corner? He totally might.”

“Ohhh. Ok, cool. Yeah, that’s cool. ‘Open Arms’ is cool, too.”

Kurt tells the DJ which number they’re singing, and soon enough, the first lines of “Open Arms” blare out of the speakers. Their rendition probably wouldn’t win them any awards, but the rest of the people at The Dock seem to enjoy it, because unlike most of the performers, none of them are off-key at least. 

When the song is over, Finn announces, “Now we need Jews for Puck or it’s like we’re doing it wrong.”

“Can’t go wrong with Billy Joel,” Puck says. “They always have Billy Joel for karaoke.”

“So ‘Piano Man’ or ‘It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me’?” Kurt asks, looking at the list. 

“No one’s done ‘Piano Man’ which is possibly a crime against karaoke,” Puck says, then winces. “Did I seriously just say ‘a crime against karaoke’?”

“You know who says ‘crime against karaoke’?” Finn asks, grinning.

“Me, apparently,” Puck answers as Kurt tells the DJ their next selection.

“You and somebody else I can think of,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

“I know nothing but the people in this building,” Puck says firmly before they start to sing. When they finish with “Piano Man”, which in Puck’s opinion goes even better than “Open Arms”, they still have one more slot on the sign-up sheet, so they start to look over the list of music again. 

“What should be our finale?” Kurt asks. 

“Something different?” Puck says.

“Got it,” Finn says, definitively. “Trust me on this one.” He tells the DJ the number and the music starts shortly after, with some kind of twangy guitar intro. Finn grins at Puck and Kurt like he’s just gotten away with something, which makes Puck even more suspicious. 

Finn turns towards Puck, his grin widening even more, and starts to serenade him with lines that sound like almost any country-ish song, but then Finn launches into the chorus, singing much louder. Puck exchanges a glance with Kurt, who shrugs, looking puzzled. Finn’s song choice becomes clear, however, when he reaches the next lines, which he delivers with a comically suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

_So, barmaid, bring a pitcher, another round of brew  
Honey, why don't we get drunk and screw_

Puck shakes his head, starting to laugh. “I’d say I can’t believe it,” he says to Kurt, “except I totally can.”

Kurt throws his arm around Puck’s shoulders, laughing loudly. “Me too!”

_Why don’t we get drunk and screw?  
I just bought a water bed, it’s filled up for me and you_

Finn’s laughing too hard to sing the next line, and the other patrons in The Dock hoot and holler at him. He waves Puck and Kurt over to his side just in time for the final line.

Puck figures that you can tell they’re a little drunk, because neither one of them actually hesitates before belting out “So, why don’t we get drunk and screw” with Finn, their arms around his back. 

When the music ends, the three of them make their way back to their table, where Denise has left three glasses of water, and Puck gulps most of his down at once. “I think we’re already part-way there on the drunk part,” he says. “Some of us more drunk than others. Does that mean we should walk back now and figure out the other part?”

Kurt laughs, leaning against Puck’s shoulder. “Can we manage the walk back?”

“Anybody who can’t walk, I’ll carry him!” Finn declares. 

“What if you’re the one that can’t walk?” Puck asks, laughing so hard he can’t talk for a minute. “Can you carry yourself?”

“I’m going to give Denise a big tip. Okay? We’ll tell Dad we ate a lot.”

“I can carry myself. It’s cool. It’s all cool.”

“Everything is beautiful in its own way,” Puck says, nodding. “Like the ocean.”

“Like our bed.”

“Like you guys naked,” Finn says, too loudly. A few heads swivel in their direction, and Puck decides it’s probably lucky that they’ve finished paying. He and Kurt both stand up, pulling Finn with them. 

“Yes,” Kurt agrees more quietly as they wave at Denise and head outside. “Like all of us naked.”

 

“I didn’t actually bring anything to wear to a club,” Puck says, rummaging through some of the luggage.

“None of us did,” Kurt says, sighing a little as he looks in the mirror. “I don’t think we exactly anticipated Pensacola having a club we both could enter and would want to enter.” After they’d noticed the club on Wednesday afternoon, Puck had Googled it and they’d been pleasantly surprised that it allowed people under eighteen in. After a day spent more or less like the previous one—ocean, pool, naps, and fucking, plus lunch at The Dock and dinner at the amusingly named Crabs We Got Em—the club seemed like a decent place to go after they each showered. 

Kurt pivots and purses his lips, thinking. “You did bring a pair of jeans, though. Did you, darling?”

“Can’t you just wear your Speedo?” Finn jokes. “Yeah, I brought a pair of jeans.”

“I don’t want to be mistaken for someone who works there, Finn,” Kurt says, walking away from the sink. “Just grab any T-shirt and you can take it off once we get there. Any T-shirt except the McKinley one, that is.”

“Aw, too bad I didn’t bring my Pride shirt!”

Kurt shakes his head and raises an eyebrow at Puck, who nods. “Yeah, we’d like not to fight people off of you,” Puck says. “Too bad.”

“You’ll be fine without a shirt, really,” Kurt assures Finn. “It’ll be much easier.”

“Easier than what?” Finn asks. “You just want me shirtless ‘cause it’ll scare people away.”

“What are you talking about?” Kurt asks, finding a pair of jeans and a shirt for himself and starting to pull them on. 

“Don’t wear any T-shirt with a slogan, really, I think,” Puck amends, looking at Finn. “Plain one, in case you lose it.”

“Why would I lose it? What kind of club is this? Is it a shirt–stealing club?” Finn sounds both confused and borderline–concerned. 

“When you take your shirt off, you can stick it in your back pocket or your waistband or something,” Puck says. “And you know, it could fall out.”

“Shirt–stealing club?” Kurt repeats. “Does such a thing even exist?”

“I’ve never been to a club, so I dunno how it works. You’re the ones saying I might lose my shirt, and I don’t know why I’d lose it,” Finn says.

“It’s unlikely, darling. But it’s not the worst idea to take one that you don’t care if it gets sweaty or whatever.” Kurt sighs and walks over to look at Finn’s clothes. “Here, wear this one and your jeans and your flip-flops.”

“Think it’ll be crowded?” Puck asks. 

“It is a weekend night in the summer.” Kurt shrugs. “Their website wasn’t very detailed.” He scans the three of them, looking at himself in the mirror and waiting for Finn to finish dressing. “Let’s go find out.” He opens the door and gestures towards the hall. 

“Maybe I’ll just leave my shirt on,” Finn says, as he follow Kurt into the hall. “I think that’s probably the best choice for everybody.”

“Not for _us_ ,” Puck protests. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Impeded access,” Kurt agrees. “That would make us unhappy.” The elevator opens as they reach it, and they walk in without anyone else joining them. 

“We’ll see when we get there. Maybe it’s a shirts–off kind of place,” Finn says.

“Or maybe you’ll let us help you take it off,” Puck retorts as the elevator door opens and they head through the lobby. 

“Maybe,” Finn agrees. “If that’s the dress code.”

“We’ll see,” Kurt says. “You have the directions, baby?”

“Yep. I can navigate us there.”

Each time they drive over the bridges between Pensacola and Pensacola Beach, they seem a bit shorter to Kurt, and luckily they find a relatively decent parking spot once they find the club’s location. 

“For a gay club, there are a lot of women aiming to get in,” Puck comments. “And I don’t think they’re lesbians.”

“Bachelorette parties,” Kurt says. “I’ve read about it. Gay bars are a popular destination for straight women wanting to party, apparently.”

“That’s… weird,” Finn says, frowning. 

“I suppose it’s a way of showing how very hip they are,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes. “A bit like having a ‘best gay’, actually.” 

“A ‘best gay’? Is that, like, better than normal gay?”

Kurt laughs. “I assumed it was one that was most stereotypical, but who knows?” They walk into the club and Kurt turns to Finn with a smirk. “See? Plenty of people are shirtless.”

“Yep.” Puck pulls off his T-shirt and sticks it in his back pocket. “C’mon.”

“I’ll wait and see what the breakdown is before I take any clothes off,” Finn says. “It’s probably safer that way.”

“Safer for whom?” Kurt waves his hand dismissively. “Nevermind. Less fun for us, though.”

Puck leans in, just close enough for Finn and Kurt to hear him over the music. “We’ll just have to persuade you, darling. Won’t we, blue eyes?”

 

The three of them come tumbling out of the club, all sweaty and gross, and make their way towards the truck. Finn reaches around to the back of his jeans to retrieve his shirt, only to find that it’s not shoved into his waistband anymore.

“Shit. They really _did_ steal my shirt!”

“Or you dropped it,” Kurt suggests, fanning his face with his hands. “That is possible, you know.”

“It’s going to be on ebay later.” Puck rubs his hands together. “I can see it already. ‘Sweaty discarded shirt found at club in Pensacola. One of a kind. Won’t last long!’”

“Pensacola’s gay criminals,” Finn grumbles. He unlocks the truck and the three of them climb inside, Kurt in the middle. “Now I have to drive back with no shirt.”

“Luckily there’s no laws governing that.” Kurt shifts closer to Finn, leaning his head on Finn’s shoulder. 

“Also there’s not many people out driving, so that’s good.” Puck rolls the window down and puts his head against the door, his left hand wrapped around Kurt’s right.

“So as long as I don’t have a stroke crossing the bridge, we’re good,” Finn says. 

“Why would you have a stroke?” Puck asks. “Is dancing stroke–causing and we didn’t know it?”

“Not dancing, just bridges over the ocean. Never gonna get used to that, dude. Seriously. It’s creepy.”

“There’s a bridge–tunnel over and under the Chesapeake. You should try that sometime,” Kurt says. “I think it’s three parts bridge and two parts tunnel.”

“Bridge over the ocean sounds like a piece of cake by comparison,” Puck says.

“No, I don’t think I’m ever going to try that. Not ever.” 

They cross the bridge without Finn actually having a stroke. It’s actually easier because it’s dark and he can’t really see the ocean underneath them, or the bay or whatever it is. When they get back to the hotel, the lobby’s mostly empty, but Kurt still tells them they have to behave on the elevator ride up. 

Puck unlocks and the door and holds it open until Kurt and Finn are both inside, then shuts it, locking it quickly. Kurt doesn’t wait for the final click before running his tongue along Finn’s chest, one arm around Finn’s waist. Puck steps forward, his fingers running through Finn’s hair, and he pulls Finn into a kiss, his tongue pushing into Finn’s mouth.

Finn wraps one arm around each of them, holding them close, and opens his mouth more against Puck’s. All three of them are sticky with sweat from the club, and they’re all kind of smelly and gross, but mostly Finn thinks it’s awesome and that it’s too bad they didn’t do more of this kind of stuff together while they could. Holiday breaks probably won’t have a lot of time for clubs and stuff like that.

He starts walking them backwards towards the bed, only stopping when the back of Puck’s legs hit the mattress. Puck lies back, pulling them with him, and Kurt moves his mouth as they move, sucking on Finn’s nipple and then biting it. Puck puts his hand at the front of Finn’s jeans, pressing his palm flat against Finn’s cock. 

Finn yelps when Kurt nips him, then starts trying to unfasten Puck’s jeans with one hand, without letting go of Kurt. He manages the zipper, but keeps fumbling with the button with his thumb until he finally lets out a low noise of frustration. 

“Dude,” Finn says. “Button.”

Puck snorts, but Kurt lets out a little giggle and slides his hand alongside Finn’s, unfastening Puck’s jeans finally. Kurt bites down again, running his hand up Finn’s chest and then putting it on Puck’s. Puck kisses along Finn’s jaw, pulling the bottom of Finn’s ear into his mouth. One of Finn’s hands slides into Kurt’s hair and the other cups the back of Puck’s head. 

“You two are gonna kill me,” Finn says. “Hope you can figure out how to explain it to everybody at home.”

“It’s a good way to go, though, right?” Puck says, his lips brushing against Finn’s ear. “We’ll eat you up if you let us.”

“Maybe even if you don’t,” Kurt giggles, moving his mouth down Finn’s chest. His hands quickly unfasten Finn’s jeans, and he pushes Finn’s jeans and underwear down before taking Finn into his mouth.

Finn exhales loudly, his fingers tightening in Kurt’s hair, and says “Oh god, Kurt” quietly. Kurt moves his lips lower, one hand coming up to wrap around the base of Finn’s cock, and Kurt’s tongue slides across the tip. Puck starts biting down Finn’s neck and chest, moving in a circle around Finn’s nipples, and he puts two fingers from one hand in front of Finn’s lips. Finn’s lips part and he licks Puck’s fingers, then sucks on them in time to Kurt’s mouth on Finn’s cock. 

Kurt moves his hand up and down, meeting his lips with each movement, then as he starts to speed up, he removes his hand, raising up on his knees for a moment. Puck slides his fingers in and out of Finn’s mouth and runs his tongue over Finn’s nipple. Finn lets out another little yelp, mostly muffled by Puck’s fingers. He rests his hand on the back of Puck’s neck. 

Two of Kurt’s fingers circle Finn’s entrance once, then Kurt pushes them inside slowly, still wrapping his tongue and lips around Finn’s cock. Puck keeps working at Finn’s nipple, licking and sucking, but he starts to slowly pull his fingers free of Finn’s mouth. 

“Oh, fuck, _please_ ,” Finn says, though he’s not exactly sure what he’s asking for. Just… something. 

Puck nods, then pulls away from Finn’s chest. “Want you to fuck me now, darling,” he breathes, and he puts his fingers, still wet from Finn’s mouth, slowly inside himself, moving them in and out and stretching himself. “Sound good?”

Before Finn can respond, Kurt releases his cock, his fingers still deep inside Finn. “Yes, fuck our baby now, Finn.”

“Yes. _Yes_ , that sounds good,” Finn says. Kurt moves behind Finn, slowly removing his fingers, then hands Finn the lube. Finn quickly pours some into his hand and then runs his hand over his cock. He leans forward and kisses Puck again, hard, moving his legs back so he can push inside. 

Puck tilts his hips up, his hands reaching for Finn and then resting on Finn’s back. “Fuck, now.”

Finn does exactly what Puck wants, sliding inside Puck and then closing his eyes for a second. “God, Puck. You always feel so good.”

Puck rocks his hips in response, the hands on Finn’s back running up to Finn’s neck and head before pulling Finn down to kiss him. Kurt pushes three fingers inside Finn, moving them quickly, and Finn can hear Kurt’s other hand moving over his own cock. 

“Going to fuck you now, darling,” Kurt says, both his hands going to grip Finn’s hips. He pushes inside, his cock sliding forward without stopping until he’s completely inside Finn. “Oh, god, Finn, love this, love you.”

“Love you,” Finn says in response. “Love you, love you, fuck, Kurt, Puck, love you so much.” He rolls his hips forward, pushing into Puck, then back against Kurt. 

“Love you.” Puck’s fingers tighten in Finn’s hair, and he wraps one leg around Finn’s. “Fuck, so good.”

“Yes,” Kurt hisses. “So good, my loves.”

Finn keeps thrusting into Puck. He’s close, too close, and wraps his fingers around Puck’s cock, moving it rapidly. “ _Fuck_ , baby, so close.”

Puck puts a hand on top of Finn’s, stopping the movement. “Just fuck me.”

Finn nods and moves his hand to Puck’s thigh instead, fucking Puck faster and harder, biting his own lower lip hard to keep himself from coming yet. Kurt speeds up his own thrusts, fingers digging into Finn. 

“Not yet, darling,” Kurt says. “Wait for us.”

Finn takes a deep breath and nods again. “Trying.”

“Fuck, just like that,” Puck says, the leg around Finn’s tightening. Puck’s eyes are half-closed, like they do when he’s really losing himself in something, and his face is a little flushed. Finn leans down to kiss him again, just letting his mouth rest against Puck’s so their breath mixes together. Puck tugs at Finn’s hair, rocking his hips up into Finn’s motion. 

“Good, fuck, yes.” Kurt pushes in harder. “ _Ours_.”

“Yours,” Finn agrees. “Kurt, please. _Please_.”

“Soon,” Kurt says. “Don’t want to stop.” He moves even faster, breathing hard, and one hand slides up Finn’s chest, trapped between Finn and Puck. “Now, darling.”

Finn cries out and thrusts deep inside Puck, coming hard, his face still touching Puck’s. Kurt comes just seconds later, almost yelling, and Puck lifts his head just enough to bring their lips together, hard, as he comes as well. 

Finn slowly lowers his weight onto Puck, sliding one arm underneath him and pulling him close. Puck snuggles up against Finn’s chest and shoulder, his eyes closed, and Kurt drapes himself half on top of them, one arm across Finn’s back and the other hand resting on Puck’s head. 

“I love you guys,” Finn whispers. 

“Love you, too,” both Kurt and Puck whisper back, Puck sounding more asleep than awake. For some reason, it reminds Finn of that first time together, back in February, and it’s bittersweet – but this time, the sweet’s a little harder to hold on to.

 

Puck wakes up at 4:50 Central time, meaning he’s officially woken up before 5 local time every single morning so far. He can’t do much besides turn his head, not with Finn and Kurt both draped on top of him, but he doesn’t really need to look to know the sun’s not up yet. 

It’s Saturday, and Puck knows what that means. It means they check out the next day. It means that in a week, everything’s going to be different. It means a hell of a lot of things that Puck doesn’t want to think about, and for this day, Puck’s going to revert a little and not think about them, any of them. 

He nudges Finn in the side with one elbow, and then traces one finger down Kurt’s nose, the way he always wakes Kurt up. “I should start singing,” he says out loud. “‘Wake up sleepy boys, oh what can it mean, to a daydream believer and two prom queens’.” He stops. “Not quite a fit.”

“Morning is so loud,” Finn mumbles, turning his face to smoosh it against Puck’s neck. 

“You like the sunrise,” Puck counters, running his finger down Kurt’s nose a second time. “You said so on Thursday.”

“Sunrise is good,” Kurt says, eyes still closed. “Your body is strange, baby.”

“No, his body is _loud_.”

“Funny, you both like it fine the rest of the time.” Puck snorts. “And there’s breakfast after sunrise.”

“Finn is a big fan of breakfast.” Kurt rolls off Puck and then sits up. “Clothing isn’t optional, sadly.”

“Is clothing optional for sunrises still?” Finn asks, lifting his head enough to look at Kurt over Puck’s shoulder. 

“That depends on where we view the sunrise _from_. Mostly, though, no.” Kurt bends over and pulls on a pair of shorts and then slides his feet into his flip-flops, then raises an eyebrow at them. 

“I think K wants us up and ready to go,” Puck says to Finn.

“Ok, if Kurt wants it, I guess I have to do it,” Finn says. He sighs dramatically and sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Where’d those shorts from yesterday go?”

“Are you saving your last clean pair for something special?” Kurt asks, sounding amused. 

“If we go someplace nice, I should have one pair that isn’t sandy.”

“I suppose that’s admirable.”

“Your trunks double as shorts, though, dude.” Puck grabs some shorts that may or may not be his—or they could be the ones Kurt stole—and pulls them on.

“Anyway, I _like_ those ones. They’re comfortable,” Finn says. 

“I think you left them near the door to the balcony,” Kurt says, pointing towards the not quite closed balcony door.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. That’s where I took them off before, I think!” Finn walks towards the balcony door and finds his shorts. He pulls them on and says, “Thanks, Kurt. I need clappers for my stuff, I guess.”

“Oh, god, no.” Kurt looks horrified. “You couldn’t go anywhere without your clothing making noises at people.”

Puck laughs. “Let’s go, you two.” They make it down to the beach without encountering anyone except the sleepy–looking employee at the front desk, who doesn’t really seem to notice them. The sky’s just starting to change color when they get out there, grey instead of dark blue.

Finn sits down on the sand and catches Puck by the hand, pulling him down into Finn’s lap. “There, now you’re comfortable,” Finn says. 

“Oh, okay,” Puck laughs, grabbing Kurt and pulling him down as well. 

“It’s pinker this morning,” Finn says, after a long span of silence passes. “It’s almost red.”

“Doesn’t that mean something about the weather?” Kurt asks.

“No clue.” Puck wraps an arm around both of them. “We’re the only people out here still.”

“Not the only mammals, though.” Kurt leans against them. “More than just three dolphins this time.”

“I think that’s a baby one!” Finn says. “Look at the little one!”

“He’s staying so close to his mom.” Puck follows their movements for a few seconds with his eyes. “You know, knowing if dolphins live together in families or whatever would have been a more useful thing to study in biology.”

“I think _that_ one is showing off.” Kurt laughs. “Look at him.”

“That’s the Kurt–dolphin,” Finn says. “Performer in the family.”

“Does that make the one who just keeps jumping the Finn–dolphin?” Puck asks. “He’s just happy to be in the water, I think.”

“Yes,” Kurt says. “That’s the Finn–dolphin.”

“He has that joy of leaving thing,” Finn says, nodding. 

“So which one’s the Puck–dolphin, then?” Puck asks. “Did he get distracted by chocolate or something?”

“What would be the dolphin equivalent?” Kurt says, staring off at the dolphins.

“Hopefully not my little blue fish,” Finn says. “Anyway, the Puck–dolphin, you just can’t see him. He’s under the water taking care of the other dolphins.”

Puck grins and ducks his head slightly, then rests his head against Finn’s shoulder. “I think the Avowed Venomous Fish is safe, darling,” Kurt says quietly. 

“I hope he’s still in his fish nest this morning and hasn’t come out yet.”

“Fish nest?” Puck repeats, lifting his head to look at Kurt, who shrugs. 

“You know, like his anemone or whatever,” Finn says. “Where he sleeps at night.”

“Where _do_ fish sleep?” Kurt smiles softly. “I remember my mom had a book that was called that. Something about imponderables. The whole book was questions like that.”

“That’s a funny thing to make an entire book of.” Puck shakes his head. “Then again, Mom has a book about people moving cheese.”

“Is it a cookbook?” Finn asks. 

“No, it has something to with managing things, maybe?” Puck shrugs. “Who knows.”

“There are books about many strange things. I guess lots of people want to be authors,” Kurt says.

“Someday, I oughta write a book. Not sure about what, but I think maybe I’ll figure it out and I’ll write a book,” Finn says. 

“We get the first two copies,” Kurt says immediately. “Signed.”

“Even ahead of your mom.” Puck looks at Finn in a way that’s supposed to be intimidating, but he’s pretty sure it’s not.

Finn laughs softly. “Duh, dude.”

“A dedication might be nice, too, come to think of it,” Kurt says lightly. “Something more than a footnote in the thank yous.”

“I dedicate this book to Kurt, because he’s the bossofme, and without him I would probably, like, not have written this book,” Finn says. “Also to Puck, because he feels good in my lap.”

“That’ll do,” Puck says. “Nice and prominent.”

“Yes.” Kurt sighs. “Why do other people have to start waking up?”

“They’re dumb and they want to ruin our beach?” Finn suggests.

“Yep.” Puck shakes his head. “It’s a crime.” He runs his hand through the sand. “But I get now why people like to go to the beach.”

“It’s very peaceful. Even when it’s crowded.” Kurt shades his eyes and looks out over the water. “And this ocean is pretty.”

“You two should go, I don’t know. Have dinner or something,” Puck says. “You and I went out, K, and Finn and I went out and got Finn’s ass burnt.”

“Yes, you should take me out, darling,” Kurt beams.

“You sure you don’t want to go?” Finn asks. “It’s not like with the kayaking. You _like_ to eat.”

Puck laughs. “I’m sure. Go have fun. Then we’ll all sit on the balcony and have a beer or something.”

“Ok, then yes, I’m taking you to dinner, Kurt. See? I told you I needed one unsandy pair of shorts!”

“Yes, you did. You’ll have to tell me where you’re taking me later.”

“Somehow I bet it’s _not_ across any bridges,” Puck offers.

“I’ll figure something out,” Finn says. He grins and adds, “Something with no bridges.”

 

Finn has to make himself stop bouncing his leg nervously. He smiles across the table, where Kurt keeps looking at him like he’s some kind of interesting, funny little blue fish. 

“Is this place alright, do you think?” Finn asks. 

“It’s lovely, Finn. And they gave us a very nice table.”

“Did I dress nice enough? I mean, I only had the one pair of non-sandy shorts, and my jeans are kind of sweaty–smelling from the club, and—”

“You look _fine_ , darling,” Kurt says. “I promise.”

It’s nice of Kurt to say he looks fine, but Finn’s feeling pretty underdressed by comparison. He _always_ feels underdressed by comparison, but he doesn’t always take Kurt out to nice restaurants. Or, like, ever. It’s sort of like a first date; there’s lots of sex and they go lots of places together, and they even do things together just the two of them, but not fancy restaurants. 

“Is it bad if I get veal?” Finn asks. 

“No?” Kurt looks puzzled. “I mean, yes, I know, it’s supposed to be cruel or whatever, but it’s not like you often eat it.”

“Ok, so you won’t think I’m a bad person if I order that asian veal stuff, then? ‘Cause I don’t want to think too much about eating baby cows or whatever, but it just sounds so good!”

Kurt shakes his head. “No, I won’t. I think I’ll get the grouper. Do you want to get some of the crab cakes as an appetizer?”

“Sure, whatever you want to order,” Finn says. “You want me to see if I can get some wine or whatever? That’s what you’re supposed to drink at nice restaurants, right?”

“Hmm. I would say yes, but I don’t want to make them irate and have them kick us out.” Kurt tilts his head back and forth, then shakes it. “Let’s not risk it.”

“Ok, cool. Yeah, that’s probably good.” Finn sets his menu down on the table, and the waiter hurries over not long after. Finn orders his cruel asian–style baby cow, and Kurt orders the appetizer and spicy grouper, which is a fish. The grouper, not the spicy; the spicy is just the flavor.

“This really is nice, darling,” Kurt says, reaching across the table and taking Finn’s hand once the waiter leaves. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, we should do this more often,” Finn says, before he even thinks about what he’s saying. He freezes and tries not to look directly at Kurt, so maybe Kurt’s brain won’t go where Finn’s brain is going. There won’t be a more often. There probably won’t even be a next time.

When Kurt does respond, his voice sounds forced, too light. “A nice view, good company, the promise of good food, what’s not to like?”

Finn squeezes Kurt’s hand. “Nothing. Nothing not to like.”

They don’t talk for a while after that, not until the waiter brings their appetizer. Instead, they just sit there with their hands clasped on the tabletop, looking out at the waves. 

 

If it weren’t for the fact that their keys worked in the door just seconds before, and that Kurt does recognize their stuff, Kurt would almost think they were in the wrong room. 

“Are we in the wrong room?” Finn asks.

“I think Puck got bored,” Kurt says, giggling a little. He walks over to the table and picks up the single piece of paper remaining on it. “He says he went down to the beach but he has his phone.”

“Hope he watches out for my fish. It was looking a little cloudy off in the distance.”

“Your fish might have gone to bed already, you know.” Kurt starts to slowly unbutton his shirt. “It could be a Ben Franklin fish. Early to bed, early to rise.”

“Worth a hundred dollars?” Finn says. He pulls off his shirt and drops it on the ground, then takes a step towards Kurt, easing Kurt’s shirt off his shoulders and laying it across the dresser. He returns his hands to Kurt’s shoulders, stroking them with his thumbs. “There. That’s better.”

“So it is.” Kurt runs his hands down Finn’s chest. “Would you like to take me to bed, darling?”

“I dunno. Bed’s kind of far,” Finn says. His hands move to the front of Kurt’s pants, slowly unfastening them and then sliding them down Kurt’s hips. Finn trails his fingertips over Kurt’s hipbones, then he slowly lowers himself to the ground, kissing first the right hip and then the left. 

“It’s comfortable, though,” Kurt feels compelled to point out, running his hands through Finn’s hair. “Soft.”

“You’re soft.” Finn nuzzles his face against Kurt’s hip, pulling his pants all the way down so Kurt can step out of them. “I’m comfortable.”

“I love you, darling,” Kurt says quietly, tugging a bit on Finn’s hair. He’s aware, too aware, of time winding down and getting away from them, and he makes a conscious decision not to think about it, because it makes him want to cry, a bit, and he doesn’t want to cry. Not now. 

“I love you, Kurt,” Finn answers, then his tongue is running up the length of Kurt’s cock, lapping at the head, his fingers curling around Kurt’s hips. Kurt exhales, moving one of his hands to Finn’s shoulder.

“Oh, that’s good,” Kurt sighs. “So good, Finn.”

Finn responds by taking Kurt’s cock into his mouth, slowly moving down until his lips are close to the base, then pulling back and doing it again. Kurt moves his fingers over Finn’s shoulders, barely brushing against the skin, and forces himself to keep his eyes open, watching Finn. Finn glances up at Kurt, watching Kurt watching him, and he moves his mouth a little faster, his tongue stroking the underside of Kurt’s cock. 

“Finn.” Kurt moves his fingers through Finn’s hair, trying to feel as much as possible, to remember as much as he can, for later. Finn tightens his grip on Kurt’s left hip, sliding his right hand to the base of Kurt’s cock and moving it in time with his mouth, pulling back slightly to curl his tongue around the head before moving back down again. 

“Fuck, darling,” Kurt says, his hips rocking forward. “God, you’re good at this.”

Finn’s fingertips dig into Kurt’s hip, his tongue and mouth moving faster and with increased pressure. He makes a muffled noise that sounds almost like a contented sigh, and his eyes close. 

“Love you, love you so much,” Kurt says, and he hopes the desperation in his head isn’t in his voice. He moves into Finn’s mouth, pulling at Finn’s hair with both hands now. “So close, darling.”

Finn keeps moving his hand on Kurt’s cock, pulling his head back slightly so he can lap at the spot just below the head. Finn’s eyes flicker open, meeting Kurt’s. Kurt rocks forward again, letting out a low cry as he comes. Finn swallows around him, tongue still gently moving, then he slowly pulls away, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s hip. 

“I love you, Kurt. So much.”

Kurt slowly lowers himself onto his knees, pressing his lips against Finn’s and then running his tongue along them. He wraps one arm around Finn’s shoulders and deepens the kiss, then pulls away and rests his forehead on Finn’s forehead. “Now will you take me to bed, darling?”

Finn nods his head silently, pulling Kurt against him, taking Kurt’s leg and wrapping it around his waist. Kurt lifts his other leg, both arms around Finn’s neck, and Finn stands up, Kurt clinging to him. Finn takes the few steps to the bed and lowers Kurt onto it, kissing him before he can let go of Finn. 

“Does that make me a heavy thing?” Kurt asks, grinning slightly. 

“That _is_ my job. But nah, you’re not heavy.” Finn props himself up on one arm and stares down at Kurt, brushing Kurt’s hair off his forehead and then stroking Kurt’s cheek with his thumb.

“It’s true. I’m just the pretty one.” Kurt turns his head into Finn’s touch. “Please, Finn.”

“Tell me what you need, Kurt.”

“I need you.” Kurt runs his hand over Finn’s face and into his hair. “I need you inside me.”

Finn nods. “Yeah. That’s what I need, too.” He picks up the bottle of lube from the bedside table, pouring some onto his fingers. He leans over to kiss Kurt again as he slowly pushes two fingers inside. Kurt lifts his legs, tilting his hips towards Finn. 

“God, I want you, now,” Kurt says fiercely. “Please, just fuck me, Finn, please.”

“Soon,” Finn says, his voice soft. “Need to make it last.” He keeps moving his fingers in and out of Kurt, curling the tips up to stroke against Kurt’s prostate. Kurt arches towards him, crying out. 

“Oh, fuck, Finn, yes.” Kurt pushes back against Finn’s fingers, trying to force Finn farther inside. Finn pulls his fingers slightly out instead, adding a third before pushing them back inside. Kurt whines, reaching out for Finn with his hands. 

Finn’s other hand strokes lightly down Kurt’s leg, while Finn continues moving his fingers inside of Kurt. “Tell me,” Finn says. “Don’t ask me. Just tell me.”

“Oh, god.” Kurt bites his lip, watching Finn’s face and the movement of his arm. He’s not sure where the line is, and he doesn’t think about it often, but he’s almost certain he could tell Finn to do nearly anything, and Finn would do it. For whatever reason, that’s how much Finn trusts him, and Kurt knows he really has to stop thinking so much if he’s going to keep from crying. “Finn, _fuck me_. Now. Hard.”

Finn immediately pulls his fingers out of Kurt, pushes Kurt’s legs back, and slams into him, leaning forward to crush his mouth against Kurt’s. On the second thrust, Finn bites Kurt’s lower lip, his hands squeezing Kurt’s legs. Kurt wraps his legs around Finn, heels digging into Finn’s back, and moves into each thrust. 

Finn starts muttering to himself, a string of “fuck fuck fuck oh fuck” that gradually gets louder as Finn continues to move inside of Kurt. Kurt grabs Finn’s shoulders with his hands, using them for leverage, and he forces his eyes open, watching Finn’s face. Finn’s eyes are almost shining, and his cheeks are too pink to not be a slight sunburn. 

One of the hands on Kurt’s legs slides to his hip and up his side, until Finn’s fingers finally brush across Kurt’s face and then tangle in his hair. Finn’s eyes flutter closed and he keeps talking, his tone becoming increasingly desperate.

“Fuck, fuck, _Kurt_ , fuck, please, please, please.”

Kurt throws his head back, breathing fast, and he pushes up against Finn with a few more thrusts before he speaks. “Come with me, Finn,” he gasps out, his own eyes closing as he starts to come, tightening around Finn. Finn cries out, his whole body shaking as he comes inside Kurt. When he finally stills, Finn drops his forehead against Kurt’s.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” Finn keeps whispering, like he’s afraid Kurt is going to forget it.

Kurt combs his fingers through Finn’s hair slowly. “I love you, too, darling.”

 

Puck figures it’s possible that Finn and Kurt did a double-take when they got back to the room, because after about ten minutes of flipping through the channels, Puck had decided to at least sort out everything they had strewn on the floor. Towels in the bathroom, dirty clothes in a pile, and the bag of trash out in the trashcan by the elevator, and the room did look a lot neater. Puck pulls on his swim trunks and then a pair of shorts over them, stuffing his phone and his wallet in his pockets. He can swim or something and grab a sandwich to go from The Dock for dinner. 

After Puck finishes swimming and eating, he looks for Finn’s fish and has zero luck, though he decides not to tell Finn that he looked. It’s been a few hours since Kurt and Finn left by then, anyway, so he stops in the lobby for that evening’s freebie—peanuts—and heads back up to the room. 

There’s no overt noise—really, it’s surprising no one’s complained about them to the hotel—so Puck swipes his key and heads inside. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Finn answers. He’s half on top, half curled around Kurt in the center of the bed, and he lifts his head from where it’s resting on Kurt’s to smile at Puck. “We brought you cake. I think it didn’t get squished.”

“Squished?” Puck shakes his head and finds a white box on the floor, opening it. “Excellent.”

“We weren’t sure we were in the correct room when we got here, baby,” Kurt says, and Puck grins. 

“Yeah, I figured you might not.” Puck sits down in one of the chairs, propping his feet up on the bed. “Have fun?” He takes a bite of the chocolate-on-chocolate cake and closes his eyes briefly. “Oh, that’s good.”

“I ate cruelty–filled cow and Kurt had environmentally unfriendly fish,” Finn says. “It was awesome.”

“It was awesome,” Kurt says, nodding. “And it was very environmentally unfriendly. On the red list, even. Does it still look like it’s going to storm later?”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll get in any swimming tonight, even if we wanted to,” Puck answers. “But the balcony should be fine.”

“I’ve never seen it rain on the ocean before,” Finn says. “It sounds kind of cool.”

Kurt stretches, his arms going above his head. “Would you get us each a beer, darling? We can go sit out there and watch it rain while the sun sets, if we can still see that.”

Finn disentangles himself from Kurt and gets three beers from the mini-fridge. He opens them and hands one to Kurt and one to Puck, then opens the sliding door to the balcony, pausing to pull a pair of shorts on one-handed. Kurt sets his beer down long enough to grab some shorts as well, then picks it back up and takes a long drink before walking towards the balcony. Puck discards the now–empty bakery box and walks out onto the balcony as well, leaning against the wall on the side. 

“That’s rain on the ocean,” Puck says unnecessarily, taking in the entire scene. It’s raining in front of them and out on the beach, drops falling on the waves, but they can still see the sunset to the right, and it’s obvious that the rainstorm doesn’t extend as far as they can see. 

“It’s beautiful. Strange, though.” Kurt slumps in his chair, putting his feet on the rail. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Finn says. 

A burst of lightning crackles into the ocean, almost directly ahead of them, though it still takes a few seconds for the thunder to echo. “No, me neither.” Puck takes a sip of his beer, then holds the cold bottle against the side of his face. “Someone at that gallery should paint the beach and the ocean like _this_.”

They sit in silence, watching the rain and the setting sun, for fifteen minutes, maybe longer, before Finn says, quietly, “I don’t want to leave.”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t want to, either.” His face almost hardens, and he starts to drink again, not pausing until the bottle is drained. 

“We’ll come back,” Puck says after another minute passes. “There’s no reason _not_ to come back. We can come back every year.”

Finn sighs, then he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, we could.”

“They’ll get tired of us in a few years,” Puck adds, forcing himself to sound more upbeat than either Finn or Kurt look or sound. “They’ll be all, oh great. Those guys again. And that server at The Dock will be shocked when one year we actually volunteer our IDs.” Puck takes a drink of his beer, stalling while he comes up with more to add to the story. “And we’ll make sure everyone puts on enough sunscreen everywhere.”

“And eat a lot of fried seafood?” Kurt pipes up, and Puck nods, managing a small smile. 

“Maybe my fish will still be alive. Or his descendents, I guess,” Finn says. “If the dolphins don’t eat them.”

Finn sounds even sadder than he looks, actually, and Puck runs his tongue over his lower lip, trying to decide what to say. “Dolphins don’t eat Avowed Venomous Fish, dude,” he finally says. 

“They’re smarter than that.” Kurt lets his empty bottle dangle from his hands. “The dolphins, I mean. The fish is smart enough to be venomous.”

“I’ll just pretend he’s the immortal Avowed Venomous Fish. I don’t think there’s any way I could really catch him and take him with us. I think fish tanks are expensive and I don’t know if we’re allowed to have them. You know… in the dorms.”

“Salt water systems are, yeah. Nana wanted to get one once. I think she wanted to get miniature sharks or something, really.”

“Nothing furry in the dorms, I would think. You could have… what’s not furry besides a fish? A turtle?” Kurt shakes his head. “I think I’d skip that.”

“I don’t really want a pet, anyway. I just…" Finn sighs again. “Sucks to leave behind the fish, I guess. He wasn’t a bad fish.”

“Except when he tried to swim up your shorts,” Puck reminds him. “That was uncool.”

Kurt makes a noise that normally would be a laugh, but it comes out sounding choked off. “He didn’t try again, though.”

“Well, who would try to get in my shorts a second time with you guys there?”

“Someone very, very foolish,” Kurt says, sounding almost ominous. 

“Me and my red shorts, they’re very scary,” Puck jokes. 

“Oh, wait,” Kurt says suddenly. “I just remembered what we talked about on the way down, Finn.”

Puck looks at them. “Huh?”

“The dolphin boat?”

“Yes. We should do that tomorrow afternoon.” Kurt gestures vaguely at the Gulf. “We’ll look it up online. In the morning.”

“There’s a boat shaped like a dolphin?”

“No, dude. You ride on the boat _with_ dolphins,” Finn says. “I mean, they don’t get on the boat. They just hang out with it or whatever.”

“Oh, the dolphin–watching thing.” Puck nods. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“We can take lots of pictures. Or just watch them.” Kurt shrugs. “Will you get me another beer, baby?”

“Yeah. You want another one, Finn?” Finn nods, and Puck goes inside just long enough to grab three more bottles and open them, then goes back outside, handing Kurt and Finn theirs. 

“Thank you,” Kurt says, flashing a quick smile. 

“Thanks,” Finn says. 

“No problem.” Puck gulps down part of his beer, and if it weren’t for the fact that they have to drive home the next evening, he’d suggest they all get completely plastered, or at least drink until all the beer is gone. They have more left than they’d thought they would, since Denise at the Dock has been more than obliging with the alcohol. 

“You know what we didn’t manage to do?” Kurt asks. 

“Finish _Finding Nemo_?” Finn suggests.

“Oh, that’s true,” Kurt says. “We can do that in awhile, though. No, I was thinking skinny dipping.”

Puck grins. “Yeah, that is too bad.”

“We got naked and we swam, though. Just not at the same time,” Finn says. “Also I got my ass sunburned on the beach as it is. If I’d been all the way naked, well.”

“Moonburn is a serious problem,” Puck says solemnly. “It’s the next big wave of public service announcements.”

“Moonscreen. Now in tasteful packaging so your friends won’t know!” Kurt laughs. “Don’t you think?”

Finn frowns. “People could skinny dip during the day. There’s nude beaches and stuff.”

“Not _here_ , though,” Kurt says practically. “Besides, I thought you didn’t want too many people looking at my ass.”

“Exactly. And that’s why we didn’t skinny dip,” Finn says, crossing his arms. 

“Maybe next year,” Kurt sighs. “In the dark, so no one sees my ass.”

“I think we’d still be able to see it, K.”

“I think I’ll make _sure_ I see it.”

“Let’s go finish watching _Finding Nemo_ and eat the free peanuts I got us,” Puck says, idly spinning the bottle in his hand. “Then maybe Kurt will show us his ass.”

 

“Are you sure you checked the bathroom?” Kurt asks Puck. “We don’t want to leave anything.” He frowns at the bag in front of him. “It looks like we have less stuff.”

“We ate some of it!” Puck calls back, his head stuck in the bathroom. “And there’s nothing in there but hotel towels.”

“Finn? Did you check the drawers?”

“But we didn’t use the drawers,” Finn says. 

“One of us could have, I don’t know. Been sleepwalking. You should check.” Kurt zips up the one bag and then turns his attention to the next one. “I can’t put wet things in with dry ones!”

Finn opens all the drawers and shoves them closed with a loud bang. “Nothing in there. You can put wet stuff in my bag.”

“But you have dry things in your bag. Then they’ll get wet and grow mold or stink or something.” Kurt can _hear_ his voice getting higher, he knows he’s starting to sound more hysterical than concerned, and he can’t stop it. Some force in his mind seems to think that if he obsesses over the packing and the checking out, he can avoid thinking about what it means when they get off the interstate in Ohio in about twenty-four hours. 

Finn picks up his bag and upends it over the bed, dumping out all the contents. Without saying anything, he starts grabbing the wet things and shoving them into his now–empty bag, scowling at each wet item as he picks it up. When everything is transferred into his bag, he zips it closed and then sets it back by the door again. 

“My dry stuff can go with yours,” Finn says. 

“The other solution would have been to make everything wet on purpose,” Puck says, leaning against the wall. “Yours probably works better, though. Where’d you want the leftover food, blue eyes?”

“There’s a bag on top of the mini-fridge,” Kurt says, gesturing vaguely towards it. “All of the food can go in there.”

Puck nods and starts putting the food into the bag, and Kurt turns around slowly, looking around the room. They have a little less than an hour, almost everything is packed, and Kurt feels like screaming. 

“What time is the cruise thing again?” Puck asks after all the food is in the bag. 

“Two. Their time. We can walk on the beach or something. Finn? What do you think?”

“Sure. Whatever you guys want to do.”

“Time travel?” Kurt suggests too brightly. 

“Are we doing it Harry Potter–style or more like Star Trek?” Puck asks. “Because my answer depends on that.”

“Time Turner, yes.” Kurt sinks down onto the bed and shakes his head. “That’s everything.”

“If we can’t bring my fish back, I’m pretty sure we can’t bring whales,” Finn says. 

“Well, dammit.” Puck sits down beside Kurt, reaching out to pull Finn down on the other side of Kurt. “There goes that dream.”

“Finn could still talk to you in whale, though, baby,” Kurt says, managing to smile, because at least this conversation is easier. Ridiculous, but easier. 

“I don’t know. My heart’s not in a whale kind of space right now. Maybe I could do some, I dunno. Swordfish.” Finn leans against Kurt and rests his chin on top of Kurt’s head. 

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to swordfish?” Puck says, laughing.

“Something like that,” Finn says. 

Kurt sighs, reaching out with both hands to lace his fingers with theirs. “It’s time to go,” he says softly. “Whether we like it or not.”

“Yeah.” Puck squeezes Kurt’s hand. 

Kurt can faintly hear Finn whisper “not” into the top of his head, and all Kurt can think is that Finn’s speaking for all three of them.

 

The dolphin cruise lives up to its name, and they see a lot of dolphins, including a big dolphin family with a lot of little baby dolphins. After the cruise, they go back to The Dock, supposedly to get a to-go order, but they end up sitting in the same booth they’ve sat in all week and eating there instead. Before they go, they get the bartender to take their picture with Denise, because Kurt says they need at least one picture that’s appropriate to share with others. 

After that, though, there’s nothing left to do in Pensacola Beach, no more excuses to keep them from getting in the truck and starting the drive back. The three of them stand side by side on the sand one more time, staring out at the waves, and then they get into the truck. Finn sits in the driver seat with Kurt in the middle and Puck by the door, and as they pull away from the hotel parking lot, he rolls down both windows to let the ocean breeze blow through the truck.

The sky is already starting to tinge pink and gold, and by the time they pass the second bridge over the ocean, the sky has turned orange as the sun sets. Finn looks down at Kurt’s hand resting on his leg, and then over to where Kurt’s other hand rests on Puck’s thigh. Nobody says it out loud, because saying it is impossible. They all know this is goodbye, but it’s the saying it that would break them.


End file.
